A Story About Grownups
by BarracudaHeart
Summary: Three friends, a writer, a believer, and an artist face the struggles and stresses of adulthood and when reunited, lend advice and support to each other. Warnings: Mentions of mental illness, smaller mentions of attempted suicide in later chapters, alcoholism, sexual situations, and anger management issues. Rated M after Chapter 18.
1. Prologue & Introduction: The Writer

**Hello everyone! This is a story I've been working on called "A Story About Grownups" I've been working on it for a while, and have the three introduction chapters complete, and I'll be releasing them one at a time gradually, as I continue typing the rest of the chapters. A lot of the parts are non-linear, in that a lot of things will be a bit vague, but then will get explained soon enough as the characters' lives are explored and the story progresses. There's lots of flashbacks and flashforwards too, so another thing to keep in mind!**

 **I will admit, the narrative style of the first three chapters is really uneven, and it bugs me, and I'm sorry if it bugs anyone else too! It'll be more even as it progresses, I promise. I'm just trying not to give too much of the characters away so early.**

 **Summary: Three friends, a writer, a believer, and an artist face the struggles and stresses of adulthood and when reunited, lend advice and support to each other.**

 **Characters: Lars, Sadie, Ronaldo, Steven, Peedee, Amethyst, a few original characters and cameos by other characters**

 **Warnings: Mentions of mental illness, smaller mentions of attempted suicide in later chapters, alcoholism, and anger management issues. Also probably some sexual situations in later chapters.**

 **Soooo anyway, here we go! Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"Steven Quartz Universe, are you prepared to abide by the oath by which you have sworn?", boomed Lars theatrically as he stood atop a chair._

 _"I am," the boy spoke with utmost seriousness, kneeling in front of the other, opening his eyes momentarily to see his reflection in the glossy tile floor, and silently tell himself to keep a straight face._

 _"Do you solemnly vow to uphold the righteous standards of this establishment, and to always-", Lars lost his place as he grew distracted by Ronaldo and Sadie's giggling, and broke character to stifle his own snicker, then cleared his throat and continued, "And to always defend this establishment in times of distress; ie, your gem ladies' monster fights?"_

 _"I do.", he spoke with complete bravery._

 _"Let it be known then that as of now, 3:38 PM, August 28th, I have passed my duties onto you, and-...gimme a sec-", the teen reached behind himself, and grabbed the rolled up 'Big Donut' t-shirt on the counter, and tapped it gently on Steven's shoulder, "I dub thee...Big Donut Employee."_

 _Ronaldo and Sadie clapped wildly, laughing like idiots while Steven grinned brightly enough to light up the town as he took the shirt and slid it over his own, and cheered, "I've been permanently deputized! Or...at least until you come back," he smiled to the teen who was now lounging on the chair, eating one of the donuts from the box they'd prepared for him as a going away treat._

 _"By the time I come back, I won't have to work here, I'll have a better job," Lars smiled smugly, a few crumbs falling off his face._

 _"It won't be a job where you can sleep though," Sadie teased, standing up and stretching._

 _"I'll find a way," he joked, and finished up his donut, "You guys want any of these? I dunno if they'll last on the flight."_

 _"Sure," they all agreed, reaching into the box._

 _"We're really gonna miss you, Lars," Steven said with a sad smile._

 _"Good, I'd be insulted if you didn't," he muttered with a snort, "But seriously, I'll be back to visit by Christmas."_

 _"And by then you'll be able to cook a full course meal," Ronaldo chimed in, "And thus give me excuse to avoid Christmas dinner with my anti-weird relatives."_

 _"You'd hate it at my family dinners, Ron, my family's more anti-weird than yours!", Lars laughed._

 _"Yeah, but food! You make good food!", he whined, which made Lars laugh even harder._

 _"Speaking of cooking, quick question Lars," Steven piped up, "Amethyst was wondering...if an oven is broken, can you put cake mix in the microwave?"_

 _"Absolutely not," Lars answered, "Unless you want it to explode."_

 _"Cool!", Steven cheered, "I'll tell her that!"_

 _"Please don't," Lars whined._

 _The conversation carried on for a while until Lars' watch beeped, and he gave a soft sigh, "Looks like I gotta go catch the plane. Still gonna drive me to the airport, Ron?"_

 _"Yeah," the curly haired teen responded softly, smiling sadly as he grabbed his keys. Technically he wasn't allowed to drive people outside of family for three more months, but he was confident enough in his driving now to not crash and kill people._

 _Lars hunched over, patting Steven brusquely on the back as the half-gem hugged him tightly, "Bye, man."_

 _"Bye Lars, have fun at culinary school. Send me food!"_

 _"I'll send you all my failed projects," he snickered, giving him another quick hug, and went over to Sadie, staring her right in the eye._

 _"...Don't get too lonely over there, ok?", she spoke softly, "And you know you can always call me if you miss us."_

 _"Yeah," he sighed, leaning down to hug her tight, almost lifting her off the ground, "I'm really gonna miss you."_

 _"Mmhm," she mumbled, holding back tears. Working here was definitely never going to be the same._

* * *

 _...Working there never really was the same after that. I never really was able to have the same conversations with Steven that I had with Lars. I didn't have to do as much work as before, since Steven was more than happy to pull his weight around. And I didn't have to deal with nudging someone to wake up when the customer came in. But as much as that made my job easier, I missed those little quirks in my job that Lars brought. He really was one of a kind. I hope he's doing well. We lost touch after he graduated, and I always wonder if there was something I could have done to keep him closer...but maybe he was just a free spirit like that. I hope he still is._

With that final keystroke, the column piece was done. Sadie saved the computer document, and after very quick and skillful proof reading, she sent it to the editor, and turned off her computer, resting her tired eyes momentarily.

Column piece #58 of 'Sadie's Corner' in the Beach City Bugle was done, as far as she was concerned, and now she just had to plan on writing #59 for that next Wednesday's paper. Having a weekly spot in the paper was pretty impressive, but it was still quite demanding, and Sadie considered herself lucky it wasn't a daily column.

Tying back her hair in a bun, she pulled out her notepad to scribble down ideas for the next week's topic. There was a lot of things she had covered before, and she didn't want to repeat a certain topic unless she made clear it was to be a series. She could discuss the history of the city, but then she'd have to decide which part, which event, which TOPIC of history. She could discuss the gems' own history, but then that could have easily delved into gossip, and she didn't want to do that, she was their friend. She could do another column on one of her friends, but then she'd just be repeating her most recent publishing. Animals? Baking? Politics? Sadie was trying to get her mind to spit out ideas. She couldn't just write _nothing_.

She got up, and went over to her cabinets, pulling out a flask full of liquor, but then she looked at it thoughtfully. She was stressed and tired yes, but she didn't want to get into a habit of letting that be her go-to for every single time she was stressed. Sighing deeply, she placed the flask back in the cupboard.

Her phone beeped with a message from Ronaldo.

 _Sadie, I need you now please. Peedee can't help me here._

Feeling a bad sensation in her gut, knowing Ronaldo's recent issues, she put the flask in her coat pocket. She'd probably be needing it tonight when/if she got home.

* * *

By #93, Sadie decided she wanted to write something bigger. Bigger than the third page of the Beach City Bugle, and bigger than the entire newspaper itself. But upon that decision, she found it was a lot more complex than sitting down at her computer and just writing away. Books weren't like newspaper columns that you could just change topic with. She had to keep it all together somehow.

Her mother had suggested to maybe just take all her previous columns and publish them as a compilation, but Sadie felt like that was cheating. If she was going to write a book, she wanted to put the effort in to actually write it.

Sadie also knew that the process would take longer than a week. Maybe even a year. She'd have to juggle the newspaper with her story, which would have taken it even longer. It was going to take time and patience. She told herself that.

But by #110, she had not even typed a single page.

It took a lot of deliberating to finally decide to not bring up Ronaldo's recent issues in #111. Sadie knew that it wasn't fair. Even vague writing about it would have made her feel guilt. She would have jumped at the chance to write something new, but she couldn't do it if it hurt one of her best friends. Even when he told her, without her having asked, that she could write about him, she just couldn't.

So once again, the newspaper agreed to repeat one of her older columns. _Nobody will even remember it from before_ , they insisted, as if that was supposed to ease her worry. It just made her feel like throwing up.

Sadie found most of her time was spent in front of her computer, the document blank, blinding white. She'd type a sentence, and then immediately delete it. Then take a drink of whatever bottle she had at her desk.

She didn't want to admit she was growing a problem, but when she snapped at Steven, who was gentle as a lamb, who noticed the empty bottles in her garbage bin, she realized all of this, the stress, the writer's block, the drinking; it was changing her for the worst.

Walking into the therapist's office the following week reminded her of Lars' depression as a teenager, and Ronaldo's problems as of recent. And here they all thought she was going to be the one who never needed therapy.

* * *

The therapist had suggested that Sadie attend sobriety support meetings after several talks with her, and then suggested that she take a leave of absence from the column.

"The stress of trying to write a new topic each week is causing you a lot of unneeded stress. If you can, have them repeat your best columns, and take this time to focus on your other writing."

Sadie was almost relieved with that validation, especially when the therapist insisted it wouldn't be anything near 'lying to herself'. She just needed this time to de-stress and focus on her own health and mindset.

It was easier said than done. Attending the sobriety meetings was stressful and if anything, Sadie wished she could get _more_ drunk after them. When she looked at the paper, and saw the repeats of columns past, she wanted to cringe, or cancel her newspaper subscription, and even without alcohol, she still sat at her desk, staring at the blank document on her computer.

"When was the last time you left Beach City?", the therapist had asked her, "If you can't find any more inspiration here, maybe you need to find it somewhere else."

Sadie was not too keen on traveling anywhere, but decided it was worth a shot.

While visiting Ronaldo's half empty apartment, she told him of her plans to travel to Palm City on the west coast.

"...How long are you going to be gone?", he asked, voice devoid of emotion.

"...I really don't know," she sighed, knowing this could be a gamble on her friend's mental state, "I just...I really need this." She had her own mentality to worry about too.

"...You do know Lars went to college there, right? And that he's still there? Is that why you picked it?", he asked, tone not changing.

"No...It's just a big change from Beach City. I doubt Lars would have time to see me anyway. He's not had the time to return back here..."

If their friend had been there for so long without ever returning to Beach City, then maybe it was a place she could grow inspired by.


	2. Introduction: The Believer

_There was always the saying that no parent should have to bury their child. But frankly, it didn't seem fair when children had to bury their parents either. Especially when you were still in your teenage years._

 _Ronaldo hadn't ever expected that he would have to live through something like this twice. Granted, he never really knew his mother, having lost her at a young age, but seeing his father, bereft of life on the floor of his business without warning, really shook the teen up. With no distant relatives to contact, it was up to him and Peedee to organize the mortuary services, and contact lawyers and figure out inheritances, and they found that even with condolences from friends, they relied mostly on comfort from each other._

 _Everyone had already left by then, Sadie softly giving final condolences before she went to her car. The Fryman brothers had been staring at the fresh earthen mound of dirt on the ground when Ronaldo had been approached by their legal representative, "You must be Peter's sons. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."_

 _Before either brother could thank him, he continued, "In your father's will, he had Percy Dale-"_

 _"Peedee," Ronaldo corrected, which made his little brother blush._

 _"Peedee. Yes. Well he was set to inherit this business in all terms and purposes. However, state law requires he be eighteen to own a business of this size and license."_

 _"You're kidding," Peedee had groaned._

 _"As required by law, you will have to wait until then to own this business. In the meantime, however, we can pass ownership to your older brother."_

 _Ronaldo looked like he had seen a ghost, "I'm...I'm no business owner, I still can't even handle all the machines, I-"_

 _"We can discuss this at a more appropriate time, in a more private setting. But for now, I suggest you two discuss what is best for your father's business, and if it should continue even being a business at all."_

 _Once the representative had left, Peedee excused himself quietly to retch violently into a nearby planter._

* * *

At 4:30 every day, laptop and camera in hand, Ronaldo would leave the darkness of his office of the lighthouse, and begin his routine of scouring the city for blog material. Turning on the camera, he held it place as he walked briskly down the street, and off towards the beginning of his search route. He'd mapped the entire city out, strategically traveling to certain landmarks first, theorizing paranormal activity would likely happen during that time of the day in that area.

He had to revise this mental map several times over the course of the year, hearing from locals about strange occurrences outside their businesses that he had missed either too early or too late. The whole practice of studying the paranormal was rocket science he'd learned over time. He wanted to kick himself for missing several anomalies that could have proven useful to his blog, or one of his more structured theories. But it wasn't like he could go back in time. He would have to keep moving forward.

Keep moving forward while staying in his office, and ignoring Peedee's concerned calls asking him if he was going to come to the shop anytime soon. There was a lease to pay, and signatures to be made, and until Peedee turned 18, he could do neither.

It really wasn't that much of a task for Ronaldo, signing papers haphazardly, and slapping down some bills for the landowner to collect, but even then Peedee worried, wondering if he was going to ever see his brother again once he turned 18, and the shop had no need for Ronaldo.

It took Sadie, Peedee and Steven, and lots of arguing to get Ronaldo to pull away from his blog, his theories, basically his routine for even a handful of days. And even then, he was nervous, he was jittery, he was obviously on edge. The assurances by the two younger boys and Sadie that his followers would understand that he needed a break only helped a little. It wasn't just about his followers. It was about his duty to the world, and more importantly, his need to have something he could control in his life besides a business invested in potatoes.

Control. It was something Ronaldo felt he desperately needed in his life. He'd always been seen as the son who couldn't take care of himself. The grown infantile man who had to sit in the back seats of cars. The son who couldn't be trusted by his father. It all had really weighed down on him, and it became suffocating, draining, almost paralyzing to think about as he lay in bed. Probably up to his dying breath, Mr. Fryman probably saw him as a basket case.

It started with the small things, like getting up on the left side of the bed in the morning, having the shoes, toe to toe by the door, the same dishes to eat meals with. The same steps paced out on his daily walks, step on none of the cracks, make sure he touched none of the streetlamps (they could be wired), and make sure he got back to his office before it was five o'clock. Sadie was only allowed to visit him after six, and if it could be helped, never on Wednesdays or Thursdays. He didn't want to meet people on those days.

Peedee had taken notice of these habits his brother had, seeing when he walked past the fry shop, and even when he dropped in to visit him. At first, he thought it was just Ronaldo being Ronaldo. But then he noticed it more frequently. And he grew worried. He had calmly asked him if he'd seen a therapist about these habits, and Ronaldo almost became unglued, telling him off, asking if Peedee was going to be like everyone else, and think he was positively hopeless. It took rapid, frantic reassurance to get him to calm down. But the outburst worried Peedee even more. He himself had been seeing a psychologist for the last few years, diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and he was wondering if it was something hereditary; he saw similar symptoms in his brother. He decided not to push it any further. Not until it was needed.

* * *

It was during one of the forced breaks that Ronaldo had met someone who seemed to understand better than anyone else. Better than Peedee or Sadie, or even Steven, who had been his confidant in the past for all paranormal. But it wasn't even the paranormal this person seemed to understand. She seemed to understand _him._

And for once, he'd been happy he had taken a break. With her, he felt he finally had a bit of control in his life, to be able to maintain such a relationship, an understanding.

The break was intended to be for just a week, under Sadie's suggestion. But it managed to carry on for two years with her. Nobody seemed to worry about him much anymore. He functioned, he was happy, he was social, he was back to being the excitable joyful person he'd been years before, and not someone who was obsessed with control.

When she wasn't there however, he'd slowly start to break. He'd keep up the routines and habits in the morning. And he'd still ask her if they could walk the same route he did. She didn't mind.

It was only when they were spectators to one of the biggest paranormal events of Beach City history that Ronaldo realized he had been shirking his duty to report such matters to the world. She tried to work with it, how often he stayed in his office alone now, reporting, theorizing, investigating. But soon, it just became too much for her. By the time he'd turned around to thank her for her patience, she had left.

And Ronaldo lost control once again.

* * *

Peedee and Sadie both tried to express, as appropriately as possible, that they were proud of Ronaldo making such a decision by himself, to get help. And how to get help. Eventually, he reached a solution; to commit himself to a psychiatric hospital. It was a painful decision that he had made, but he had discussed it with the both of them, and, reluctantly, with the therapist that Peedee had suggested. And they all agreed that it was for the best.

He'd always been incredibly panicked and unwilling about taking breaks from his life's work, his only source of control, but this time, he felt a sense of relief. There was fear, but also relief.

He had written a lengthy letter to his followers, expressing his need to go away for a set amount of time, but that he would be back. In his head, he was still panicking over how much paranormal activity he would be missing, but there was also the voice of reason telling him he needed to put his stability first.

Most of his memories of it were blocked, and he wasn't sure what to think of it, other than that when he left months later, he just felt numb. He didn't really care about his blog, his theories, his friends. Anything.

He'd felt even more numb when Sadie had announced she was going to leave for an unknown amount of time. He was living alone in a half empty apartment that he'd bought a year and a half ago, with the one who had understood him, the one who he'd lost. He felt like it wasn't much more he was going to lose.

Peedee ended up visiting every day, even when Ronaldo told him he didn't need to. The brother then explained, "It's just so I can have some control too...ok?"

"...Ok."

Several weeks had passed, and Ronaldo still hadn't looked at his blog. He was spooked awake from his sleep one morning when he heard his always silent phone chime with the first notification of an email in months.

 _Mr. Fryman,_

 _I've been dying to tell you how much I am a fan of your work, and your chains of theories. You have such a knack for presenting oddities, and I think your campaign of 'Keep Beach City Weird' deserves to be promoted more!_

 _As a producer of Scale Media, I'd like to make you an offer to expand your ideas beyond your website. We think your material would be perfect for television and beyond._

 _We'd cordially like to invite you to come to our office in the Golden State next month, and discuss this. Please reply as soon as you can._

 _Marty Sharp_

 _Scale Media CEO_

First, wanting to make sure this wasn't some sort of trick by the sinister snake people (Scale Media was pretty sketchy of a name), Ronaldo decided to look up the company. It was legit. Second, he looked up its headquarters.

He drew in a breath, seeing it was Palm City, the same city Sadie had traveled to two weeks before. She still hadn't returned.

 _'Wouldn't she be surprised if we reunited there...'_


	3. Introduction: The Artist

_"Congratulations, Mister Cheng," smiled the academic president when Lars stepped to the front of the line, and shook his hand firmly like the previous students, handing him the certificates that proved he had graduated._

 _"Thank you sir," Lars had mumbled, voice stuck in his throat, feeling a strange sense of stage fright as he was surrounded by the clapping of the audience, and feeling the heat of the auditorium lights shining down on him. The excitement was numbing, and the graduate felt a strange sense of lightness in the feet as he walked down and off the stage to join the rest of the graduates, plaque and certificates tucked under his arm._

 _Lars really couldn't believe that he'd managed to graduate from culinary school, especially with his luck. The first two years were nothing but frustration at his mistakes, and the next two were such a blur of stress, he was pretty sure they had been lying when they announced he'd won one of the school's top graduating honors, especially since he felt he didn't deserve it. Not when there was other people there who could cook something without cursing multiple deities and nearly burning his fingers like he did._

 _Once everyone had been up, the school president congratulated them, and everyone cheered, flipping their white hats into the air. Lars managed to catch his briskly in his left hand, and place it back on his head._

 _Giving a few smiles for cameras and group pictures with the few friends he had made there, Lars decided all the group energy was a little draining on him, and decided it was high time to walk back to his apartment. A few friends caught up to him, and he told them that he'd catch up with them later for celebrations, that he needed some time to get some things accomplished that day, while it was still early._

 _Kicking off his shoes once he got inside and hanging his graduation smock on the rack, Lars flopped on the couch, and gave a long sigh. Spending so much time around so many people was really tiring, and it took him a few hours to recharge. His friends could all go out for celebratory lunch, but he felt like he just needed a tv remote and a nap._

 _He was happy he'd graduated. Thrilled even. He'd probably feel the glow of pride later that night. He was just exhausted._

 _Before he could close his eyes, his phone chimed, and he picked it up, answering in his 'professional voice' that he'd been perfecting over the years._

 _Turns out, a publishing company was looking for illustrators for book covers, and had come across his work on his long un-updated art blog, the one Ronaldo had begged him to make so he could have at least one 'blogging buddy' in Beach City. Lars calmly had told them that he hadn't updated that blog in at least a year, and they expressed that they still were impressed, and wanted to know if he would be interested in the job. Stumbling on his words, they finished the call by saying that he would still be considered so long as he sent them sample thumbnails by the end of the month._

 _All the information stewed in Lars' head as he flipped on the TV afterwards, and all the noise became a dull buzz as he became enamored with the promising effects this would make to his careers. Who said he couldn't cook and draw at the same time? It would make money!_

 _On instinct, Lars covered his growing smile with his hand while he stared at his TV screen with twinkling eyes._

* * *

Lars uncovered his exhausted eyes as he looked at the glowing red numbers on his bedside clock. The alarm was supposed to buzz at 7:00, he had such a busy life that he got a maximum of five hours asleep, and he still managed to wake up eight minutes before the alarm clock. Giving a low sigh, he rubbed his eyes, and scratched at the prickly stubble on his face, rolling from his side onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

He heard a rustle of blankets, and glanced to the other side of the bed, his tired eyes meeting with small curious ones.

"Ellie, you should still be asleep," Lars yawned, not even seeming surprised. Without fail, his daughter always knew when he'd opened his eyes for the first time that morning, even before the alarm clock, and would come in to see him awake. She was allowed to sleep in until 7:30, but she almost never did. Maybe it was something of a blessing, in that if she remained an early riser growing up, he wouldn't have to worry about her getting up for school when she was a teenager.

"I know," she spoke, nibbling on her thumb, not the least bit shy about her words to him.

"Why aren't you asleep?", he asked, closing his eyes as he scratched his face again, waking himself up a bit more.

"Because you're not," she reasoned bluntly.

"What if I fell back asleep? Would you fall back asleep then?", he asked, keeping his tone of voice the same.

"'Kay," she smiled, chewing her fingers.

Giving a sleepy half-smile, Lars gently nudged her hand, "Don't chew on your hand, it'll get all red, ok?", and then closed his eyes, "Ok, I'm sleeping now. Go back to sleep."

The toddler promptly flopped face first onto the bed, her head landing on her father's torso, right over his ribcage. He grunted audibly, "Careful," and instead of closing his eyes again, took this opportunity to continue staring at the ceiling.

He began asking himself how exactly his life got to this point. It wasn't a bad point, but it wasn't a good point. It was just...unexpected. It only seemed like yesterday that he had graduated culinary school, but jump five years, he was trying to work part time as a cook, while also managing freelance illustration work for clients, and to top it off, raising a three year old girl. If the folks in Beach City saw his life now, they'd probably not believe this was the same Lars who would shirk off working in a convenience store on a regular basis.

Once the alarm clock buzzed, Lars smacked the button, and ever so slowly began to get up. Ellie gave a soft whine, pressing her head against him, not wanting him to move, and he snorted, "You know you can sleep longer," and slid out from under her head, plopping his blanket over her. Glad she took up the offer of more sleep for once when she squirmed and snuggled under the blanket until she was cozy, he grabbed his clean white chef uniform, and headed into the shower.

While he washed his hair, he began to think about Beach City. He wondered if everyone over there was mad at him for not having contacted them since he graduated. It wasn't like he was trying to avoid them, life just got hectic, and frankly, so did his mental state. Every time he thought of calling, the nagging thought of them being angry for not having called sooner nagged at his head, and so he hung up before the call went through.

Once he was out of the shower, he dried his hair until it was a big ball of fluff, and tied the excess hair into a ponytail. He had to make a note to get a haircut soon, because Ellie loved pulling on the tail of hair, tugging until he audibly said 'Ow', as if his pain was amusing.

Once he was ready for the day, he got through the ritual of dressing his daughter. With how fussy she was, it could take longer on some mornings, but thankfully, once she was out of the cocoon of blankets, she cooperated, and soon he was making sure she ate her breakfast while he ate his own, and drank his coffee.

Getting to work itself was another story. Lars didn't own a car, and his job was well over twenty blocks away, and Ellie's daycare was a further distance. Lars would end up having to take the bus on these mornings, drop his daughter off at daycare, and walk five blocks back towards the restaurant. He'd loved to have had a car of his own, but he was trying to save money until he got a raise, or was paid handsomely for his next commission.

The restaurant, an Asian grill, paid fairly well with Lars' position, but since he had to pay rent, and raise a child alone, expenses were tight, and he'd have appreciated a raise. Or maybe he could have faked an accident for worker's comp. People were always bound to be idiots and hurt themselves on the grill table he worked behind.

After four hours of chopping meat and vegetables and frying them on the table in front of excited guests, Lars had time for a break, and went into the employee room, which often strongly reminded him of his break room at the Big Donut, albeit, this one was in nicer condition, being in the tourist-trap hotspot of Palm City.

Honestly though, this wasn't going to be a break. It never really was. Lars was always working. He pulled out his pencils, his paints, and his sketchbook, and he began to work, always determined in getting closer to finishing, but he never really was satisfied by how it looked.

Right before his break ended, he received a phone call. Oh it's the daycare. Ellie has been fighting again. Another tantrum. Maybe he should take her.

Lars wanted to very harshly ask the daycare people if they would like to take over his job before the big lunch rush, but instead apologized, said he'd pick her up, and apologized to his boss, insisting he'd be back in five minutes, and dashed five blocks.

After a quick talk with the daycare owner, Lars learned that another child had taken Ellie's snack, and in response, she shoved them into a box full of hard plastic toys, and they cut their lip on one.

An exhausted, disapproving look from her father was enough to make the girl look at her feet in shame, and he took her hand and walked her out, heading back to work.

"They took my snack though," she had whined when Lars had started to scold her.

"That doesn't mean you shove them," he had groaned, "This is the third time this has happened Ellie."

"...Are you gonna get fire on you?"

"...fired?", Lars corrected, then sighed, knowing she knew he had to leave work again for her, "No, dad's not getting fired."

The rest of the walk was silent, and Lars worked through the lunch rush while another worker on break looked after his daughter. Once that was over, he was granted permission to leave early by his boss, who seemed more than a little fed up that one of his top chefs had to leave during a good day.

That night, once the city, and Ellie, were asleep, Lars got back to work on the illustration until his hand literally couldn't make the marks it needed, and he crashed into bed, sinking into the mattress like a rock.

As then concluded another day in his life as a grown up.


	4. The Artist and Writer Meet Again

_"Let's be real here, Lars," Sadie had spoken up, "You're going to be so busy in school, you're not going to have time for keeping things tight with me."_

 _"Well you can't be certain," he'd mumbled into the plastic lid, lips heated by the steam coming from inside. They'd been walking to Lars' house from work together when Sadie had suggested they talk about the future of their relationship before the week was over. Knowing it wasn't going to end all too well, Lars had offered to buy coffee, and they sat on the bench outside the cafe, not looking at each other._

 _"Well of course we can't be certain. We have to be realistic. You've worked hard to get into this school, and you're going to work even harder to stay in it, and succeed," she insisted, glancing forward at the ocean._

 _"Well, hey, I can still keep things together," he insisted with a small whine, as if she didn't believe he could stay committed to a relationship like theirs._

 _"Long distance relationships are hard," Sadie mumbled, "And if we had one, and it didn't work, I don't want you being alone and hurt all the way across the country."_

 _"I wouldn't want that for you either," he had sighed, leaning against her a little, "I...really care about you, y'know?"_

 _"I know. I do too. That's why we have to figure out what's best for us..."_

 _"...and?"  
_

 _"...I think it means we have to break up. I don't know for how long, maybe forever, but you're going on a whole new path in life, and I've still gotta find my own.", she spoke, words coming easier once she got past the 'break up' part._

 _Lars drew in a breath, lungs burning a little. She was right. He knew she was right. Still, it hurt to have to let her go like this. Especially when they were so close. They were basically each other's firsts for everything; first kiss, first love, first intimate moments, first confidant. It just seemed so weird that they wouldn't be continuing further._

 _Sadie promptly pulled him into a hug, "Hey. Talk to me."_

 _"...I'm going to miss you Sadie. So much," he admitted, "...you're right though. I gotta let you go I guess. I don't want you waiting around for me, and then have me call you and break it with you like that..."_

 _The blonde hid a small smile, proud at how much Lars had matured relationship-wise, "Yeah. And with all those hot west coast girls," she stopped to giggle, "It's not impossible for that to happen."_

 _Lars gave a small snicker, hiding his face against her neck, giving it one last kiss, as if to say goodbye to it, "Hey. Promise me one thing. If you meet a new hot stud or chick to date and they dare hurt you, call me and I'll fly back over to clobber them."_

 _"Promised," Sadie laughed, giving him another squeeze, "Only if you promise me one thing."_

 _"Shoot," he smiled, tussling her hair._

 _"If we're both still single when you graduate, you cook me the best dinner I can ever eat."_

 _"Deal", he grinned._

* * *

Sadie's legs, once she reached her hotel, were more boneless and unstable than the jello they served on the airline. Dropping her suitcase on the floor, she flopped onto the bed, absolutely drained and exhausted. Sinking her face into the pillow, she could hardly believe it was only three in the afternoon, the three hour time difference absolutely screwing her over. The six hour flight was the perfect opportunity to nap, but she had been unable to, the constant pressure changes making her ears ache, and the repeated interruptions of people walking down the aisle was incredibly distracting.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering if she had made a huge mistake, traveling this whole way without exactly knowing what she was doing. It was all so disorienting, she didn't see what she was going to get so excited about just yet.

Giving a soft groan, Sadie sat up, fixing her shirt, and reached over to the nightstand to take a look at the pamphlets the hotel had provided for clueless tourists like herself who wanted to explore the area. The hotel was located on the edge of the city, meaning she'd have to take a bus (that would suck, she predicted), and then locate the most enticing places to visit.

Perusing one of the pamphlets, Sadie caught slight interest in the mentions of vintage theaters in the 'Starwood' district. It wasn't probably anything as glitzy as Kansas, but it was probably interesting and at least worth a look.

There was also apparently several historical buildings and mansions belonging to CEOs of big powerful companies and people with music careers. Not to mention all the shops, restaurants, and other spots of entertainment. Maybe if she paced herself, she'd have something interesting to write about every day.

She marked off the first destination, the historical Emerald theater, and closed her eyes, deciding to rest before her travel.

This could work...

* * *

"Why is your hair curly?", Ellie had asked her father, looking into the mirror with wide eyes, making small faces while he brushed her hair out for the day.

"Eh, it's just how it is," Lars had given a small shrug, "It's always been curly."

"...Will my hair get curly?", she asked with wide eyes, gently tugging at a bit of her straight, shoulder-length, ink-colored hair.

"Maybe," he smiled, "Your gramma had straight hair like you when she was a little girl, and it got super curly when she got older. It could very well happen to you too."

Ellie then gave a gasp, "I don't want curly hair though!"

Lars gave a small laugh, "It'll be nice though! You have nice hair, so it'll stay nice even if it's curly!"

When she gave a pout, he rolled his eyes a bit, and put her hair into two small fat pigtails, "You don't need to worry about that now anyway. You're still young," and scooped her up, "Now we have enough time to practice some of dad's language," he grinned proudly, "What...would you call me other than dad?"

"Lars?", she smiled innocently, proud she knew her father's _real_ name, having heard it shouted at him whenever she sat at his restaurant.

Cackling, he snorted, "No, no, the other name, baby."

" _Bà ba_ ", she remembered.

"Yeah, there we go," he grinned, "And what would I call you? Aside from Ellie or your other name?"

"Turtle?", she questioned, "You call me Turtle."

"That's only when you're slow in the morning," he snorted again, carrying her out of the bathroom, and to the kitchen, "Nah, what I would call you, in my language is _nǚ ér_ , and that means, 'daughter'. Can you remember that?"

"No," she wrinkled her nose.

"Eh, that's fair. You'll pick it up," he laughed, "It's pretty formal stuff. But it's all stuff that sticks, and it'll get easier the more you know of it," and then Lars pulled out a note card, writing the words for 'father' and 'daughter' and writing their symbols over them, and stuck them in a little box he'd prepared specifically for these language lessons. He'd started teaching her at the beginning of her third birthday, wanting to have started once she understood English well enough. It was difficult to teach, but she was a good learner.

Throughout breakfast, Ellie asked him to say different words in Chinese, and he did so, which left her in complete awe, like he was some sort of amazing word magician.

The whole bus ride to her daycare, she wouldn't stop calling him ' _Bà ba_ ', and a few passengers giggled with amusement, which made Lars blush. Giving her a kiss goodbye, he left for work, in a fairly good mood.

That was until the boss informed him he'd have to work overtime with a limited break as a result of missing part of his shift earlier in the week when Ellie had thrown another tantrum. Lars would be lucky if he got to pick her up before the daycare had to call him and beg him to pick her up so they could close.

After such a great start to the morning, it was unfortunate he spent the rest of the day with a perpetual scowl

* * *

This wasn't working.

After a week of staying in the city, Sadie had felt like absolutely nothing had been accomplished beyond basic tourism. She'd come here to be inspired for her work, but absolutely nothing was inspiring her aside from the same vapid 'oohs' and 'ahs' you'd have heard from any other vacationer.

Not to mention, she was tired. Her feet hurt from all the fast walking, her back hurt from being shoved so many times by impatient citizens (people here were _rude!_ ), and feeling so overwhelmed by the intense early-summer weather, all her shirts were sweated out before mid afternoon.

This was not anywhere near worth a $400 airline ticket.

One breath away from giving up, both on the trip and her sobriety, Sadie decided she needed to treat herself to something potentially nice, like a decent lunch or dinner. All the restaurants near the hotel were cheap, run down places (no fabled Out-N-In restaurants were in sight!), and Sadie wanted _real_ food.

After a hectic, humid bus ride, Sadie stumbled across the only restaurant she was able to make a reservation at, the rest having been filled up. Stepping inside, she was seated at a booth kitty corner from the large, fancy grill where customers could see their food be prepared by the chefs with such talent, grace, and poise.

Sadie had to graciously turn down the sake sampling she was offered, even if temptation was great. She eventually grew bored at her lonely little table, and wondered if it was possible to move up closer to the grill so she could see the chefs working away.

She took notice of one of the cooks wearing a very irritable face, and immediately sensed a sudden connection to them. It took only a second for her to recognize him under that professional hat and uniform, his gauges and bright red hair were a dead giveaway.

"LARS!", she nearly screamed, causing several tables to look at her as she grinned like an idiot, waving her arms madly.

The cook in question jolted in shock at hearing his name, and his hand nearly smacked the hot of the grill, and he yelped, pulling it back away from the heat. He whirled his head around, looking for the source of the voice, and as soon as he caught sight of her, his mouth nearly dropped.

"S-Sadie?", he almost choked.

"Lars!", she cheered again, beaming from ear to ear.

"Oh my fucking god," he breathed, before giving a laugh and grinning, "Sadie!", and hastily told his coworker Takada to take over his station for five minutes, and rushed over to the table, sweeping his dear friend in a hug, nearly squeezing the life out of her, "Oh my god, SADIE! I can't believe it!"

"I can't either!", she laughed almost hysterically, trying not to cry, so glad to see her greatest friend in the world, hugging his slender frame tightly, smelling the cooking spices on him, but also, that familiar scent he had she just so happened to remember.

"I've missed you so much!", she laughed again, almost sounding like she was crying, "Why haven't you called? Texted even?"

"O-Oh jeez, it's all a long story, I'm really sorry," he laughed, wiping his eyes, "I can explain it all later, but damn...what are you doing out here?"

"Long story too," she sighed, giving a wistful smile, patting his arm. "You got your restaurant job, congrats."

"Yeah," he laughed awkwardly, out of breath, leaning against her table, "It took a lot out of me."

"Looks like you've gained a lot too, though," she smiled.

"...Are you gonna be here for a while?" Lars asked, "I mean, I've got this job part of the week, and freelance stuff the rest of it, but we should totally catch up on things..."

Sadie paused in thought, and smiled, "...yeah. I'll be here a while," but then patted her friend's wrist, "You should get back to work."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, still smiling like a silly schoolboy, "I gotta get back to my station..."

Before he could turn to leave, she tugged his sleeve, "By the way Lars; This is the perfect time to cook me the best dinner I've ever eaten."

"A promise is a promise," he grinned.

* * *

 **I figure someone is going to ask at some point, so I'll just say now that Palm City is supposed to be Los Angeles!**

 **Thanks to all the followers on this story! Be sure to like/subscribe/comment/etc!**


	5. Hearts of the Artist and Believer

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea for you, Ronaldo," Peedee had spoken up from his seat on the couch.

"You know, for once, I'm not sure either, but it's a risk I'm going to take," the older brother had responded, tone distant as he crossed the room again, carrying another set of clothes to pack in his suitcase. He had no idea how long he'd be away, so he was packing at least two weeks' worth of clothes.

"Honestly though, the last thing you need is risk in your life," Peedee mumbled, "You're supposed to take it easy, remember?"

"If this whole media deal is a success, then I should be juuuust fine," Ronaldo had mumbled, fixing his glasses as he counted out the doses in his medication.

"You've got enough for two weeks? If you don't I can fill out a prescription now and then-"

"I've got enough," he spoke crisply, cutting Peedee off, and placed them in the medicine bag for his carry on.

"...Are you sure you don't want me to come with?", Peedee then asked, standing up, and folding his arms, watching his brother pack, face uncertain.

"I'm sure. Besides, you gotta run the shack," Ronaldo had shrugged, "Don't worry about me so much, bro."

"You know that's impossible," he sighed, "After all that's happened, I have to worry."

"Well let's just say things might be looking up for me...If not, then I just come back here and..." Ronaldo's words died away as he tried to think of what exactly he would be doing if this whole deal fell through.

"Get better?" Peedee suggested.

"...Yeah. Let's just say that," Ronaldo sighed, and closed the suitcase, placing it by the door for the early morning trip to the airport.

"...Ok well...I guess I better let you get some sleep," Peedee had mumbled, "You have a busy day tomorrow-"

"You sound like dad," the other snorted, tying his long curls up.

"Sorry," he laughed weakly, and gave Ronaldo a quick hug, patting his shoulder, "Just...try to do what makes you happy, OK?"

"Yeah. Ok," Ronaldo mumbled, giving an exhausted smile, waving to his brother as he left. The smile faded as he looked at his half-empty, lonely apartment.

"I really don't know if this will truly make me happy..."

* * *

It took a few days for Lars' work schedule to ease up a little, but eventually, he and Sadie had the perfect time to meet and actually have time to catch up. They'd been unable to meet up after his shift, since he had to pick up his daughter, and work for several hours straight on the client's piece, hoping that this would be the final draft and have no need for revisions, since this client was especially picky.

Sadie was hesitant to knock on the door, just in case this was a dream and she hadn't met Lars at all, but eventually, she did, and held her breath as she heard footsteps. Relief came with a grin as she was met with Lars' excited face.

"Hey Sades!", he grinned, and invited her in, "Sorry for the mess and stuff. I've been working like mad on this art thing, and some other stuff happened, so I was kind of behind schedule."

"Oh no, sorry," she laughed.

"No no, it's cool, I was excited for this," he insisted, and they both sat on the couch. "So uh, you want anything to drink, or-"

Sadie's mind screamed 'booze', but she smiled, "Soda please? I'll take any you got."

"Even yogurt soda from the Asian market?", he raised an eyebrow.

"Sure," she shrugged, and began to look around as Lars got up to go grab her soda. The apartment was surprisingly pretty clean, at least in comparison of Lars' room as a teenager in Beach City, which was a disaster zone. There was paint rags on the coffee table, and a few paint brushes on the floor, but that was about as horribly messy as it got. The rest was just standard for an apartment it seemed.

Sadie had been so busy looking around the room and its features, she didn't notice the small child who entered the room until said child piped up, "Hi!", making her yelp.

"Woah! Uh-!", she began, bright red, absolutely shocked to see the little girl in the apartment, not having expected to see anyone else besides Lars living in here. Trying to suppress her shock, she swallowed and gave a smile, "H-Hi there! Where did you come from?"

The little girl took the hand she had been chewing on, and pointed a red, drooly finger to the hallway, "Room."

"Ohhh, OK...um...", Sadie nodded, still confused.

"Where did you come from?" the girl parroted Sadie's question, and the blonde tried to form the right words as Lars then walked in with two soda glasses, and he gave a small snicker.

"Well didn't take you guys long to meet."

"Dad, who's that," the girl spoke up, looking at Lars.

 _Dad?_ Sadie felt a jolt of surprise up her spine. _Lars didn't tell me he was a father!_

Lars ruffled the toddler's hair, "This is my friend Sadie, we've been good friends since we were kids," and glanced over, "Did you tell her your name?"

"No," she shook her head, "She was a stranger."

The comment made both Sadie and Lars laugh a little. Sadie still found this shocking, but a little endearing, seeing Lars be so gentle. She noticed quickly that both father and daughter had the same eyes, dark, but full of mischief.

"OK, fair enough," Lars smiled, "Well, she's not a stranger anymore, so you wanna tell her your name?"

"...mmm...no..." the child shook her head, not looking uncomfortable, rather just not wanting to comply.

Lars gave another quiet chuckle, and looked over at Sadie, "This is my daughter Ellie. She's...got pretty strict rules about strangers."

"I see," Sadie nodded, and gave the friendliest smile she could, "Hi Ellie. It's nice to meet you!"

"Hi," Ellie waved again, looking at her with curious eyes, "You're short."

"Ellie!", Lars scolded, "That's not nice-"

Sadie laughed, "No, no, it's true though! I am pretty short for my age. But it's just how I was made! Like your dad having red hair and you having black. And both you and your dad having the same eyes."

Ellie blinked, and looked at her own hair with such seriousness, and began to play with it, looking invested in seeing if she had one bit of red in her hair like her dad. People always said she looked like him, so she wondered if her hair had become the least bit curly or red in the last three hours. Or if she magically grew holes in her ears.

The girl's reaction made both adults giggle, and Lars, still keeping a calm voice, lifted up Ellie, "Hey, Sadie and I gotta talk about really boring grownup stuff for a bit, so why don't you play in your room so we don't make you fall asleep, 'kay?"

"Kay", the girl nodded, and Lars gave her a kiss on the head as he set her down, and she waddled down the hallway, out of sight.

Lars gave an apologetic smile to Sadie as he handed her the soda he'd placed on the coffee table, "We're still working on that manners thing with her," he mumbled.

'Mm," Sadie nodded, face flushed, "You uh...didn't tell me you had a daughter."

"Yeah, uh...it's kind of an awkward thing to bring up right away y'know?", he mumbled, tugging at the collar on his shirt a little.

"So um...are you married then?"

"Oh no way," he snickered, "Still a bachelor," then sat back on the couch a little, deciding to give the short story, "I was dating her mom for a while, but then Ellie kind of came along on accident. Her mom ditched out on us a couple weeks after, and thanks to me being an idiot who didn't read fine print, she doesn't have to pay child support because of the papers we signed."

"Oh...jeez," Sadie mumbled, sensing how stressful that probably was, "I'm sorry that happened."

"Eh. I don't hold it against Ellie. She's a good kid," he smiled, giving a shrug.

"She's beautiful," the blonde smiled, patting his arm, "Good job on your genetics."

"Aww," he laughed, blushing a little, "Sometimes if we go to the park, people ask what her mom does. I wanna say 'probably 5 guys a month'."

Sadie punched his arm a little, and he laughed awkwardly, "Ok bad joke sorry."

Giving a small snort, Sadie took another sip of soda, "So aside from parenthood, what else is new?"

"Well, the restaurant job,obviously," Lars shrugged, sliding his finger around the rim of his cup, "I uh, got promoted to one of the top chef slots this year, and it's been pretty good. I think I'm due for a raise pretty soon."

"You should! Whatever it is you served me the other night was delicious!" Sadie grinned.

"Well it won't be half as delicious as what I'm cooking tonight," he smiled smugly, leaning back on the sofa.

Poking his shoulder, she giggled, "So tell me about your illustration stuff. How's that going?"

"Terrible," he spoke deadpanned, and seeing the surprise on her face, began to laugh, "Nah, it's good. It's good. It gets a little tedious sometimes, especially if the clients are shitholes who nitpick on everything and don't tip you or recommend you, but it's still fun enough I guess."

"Well, that's good," she smiled, taking another sip of soda.

"So tell me about you," he grinned, "I haven't seen you in forever."

"Gosh, my life hasn't been half as interesting as yours, Lars," she sighed, tucking her left foot behind her other ankle.

"Oh come on, you've gotta be doing something!", he goaded positively.

"Well, I've been doing a column for the Beach City Bugle," she shrugged.

"Hey, that's neat!", he grinned, "You get your name in writing once a week! What do you write about?"

"Well...lots of things. Life, arts, opinions, thoughts on things...most anything...but I haven't really been doing a good job of it lately."

"Aw, why not?" he frowned, taking a sip of soda.

"Well...uh..." she sighed, deciding she didn't have to lie to Lars, "I became an alcoholic."

Lars nearly spit his drink, and swallowed hard, mumbling into his cup, "Oh man..."

"And along with that, I had a really bad writer's block. Like...really bad. I wasn't able to write anything for months, so they had to recirculate my old columns," she mumbled, staring at her cup, seeing her reflection in the chalk-white liquid.

"Wow," he mumbled, "I'm...really sorry about that...are you... doin' ok now?"

"Yeah," she sighed, giving a reassuring smile, "I just take it one day at a time. I came over here to try and get inspiration for my writing."

"Mhm," he nodded, looking at her with genuine concern, and a bit of relief, glad to see and hear she was doing better.

"Other than that, I hang out with Steven and the Gems a lot. They invite me to a lot of their things now," she laughed.

"Wow, an honorary member, eh?", he giggled, "When you grow a gem on your stomach, let me know."

"Will do," she laughed.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Lars then decided to ask, "How's Ronaldo? You been keeping up with him?"

Sadie chewed the inside of her lips, and sighed, "He's...not been doing too well."

A rock dropped into Lars' stomach, "...really?"

"Well, you know after his dad died, things really started falling apart," she sighed, "He ended up diagnosed with OCD like his brother, but it's...a lot worse for him," she sighed, "Some stuff happened, and now he's just trying to focus on getting better."

"...is he...gonna be ok?", Lars decided to ask, looking worried.

Sadie gave a weak smile, "I hope so. He's always been pretty headstrong."

"Man...", Lars mumbled, "That's a huge bummer. Tell him I hope he's hangin' in there...Does he still do his blog?"

"Yeah, but not as much these days. He's been staying away from it for a while."

He nodded, and took another sip of soda, "...ok...sort of on topic, but not really...I think I should probably just tell you this now while it's on my mind, because I don't know if you're gonna find it funny, shocking, or really awkward but uh...", he trailed off, face red.

"Yeah..." Sadie goaded gently.

"Ronaldo and I dated during my first summer break," he admitted, glancing away, looking like a nervous teenager.

Sadie immediately laughed, "Oh that? I already knew that."

"Wait, you did?" Lars gave a small yelp, looking back at her in surprise.

"Well, yeah! I mean, you guys were cuddling during the Founder's Day firework show, and tickling each other during the barbecue Buck had thrown, he gave you kisses on the cheek-"

"Well, those weren't when we were 'dating'," he mumbled, face bright red, "We uh...officially were only dating for a week in August."

"Really," Sadie laughed, amused at how technical Lars got, "So...why'd you break up then?"

"Well, we hadn't exactly uh...kissed... up until then..." Lars began.

* * *

 _Taking Lars' hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb, Ronaldo had admitted, "I still really can't believe the summer's almost over."_

 _"Yeah, I mean, I just unpacked one of my suitcases from my dorm," Lars had snickered, looking at the ocean from the bench outside the donut shop, where Steven and Sadie were still working._

 _"Do you think you'll have more time to visit this year?"_

 _"I dunno. I mean, second year students get more work than the first year. But we have better cooking skills, so it's a little easier...Maybe if I plan ahead and schedule which weekends are the easiest to fly back on, I can-"_

 _"Mm, never mind, don't worry about it," Ronaldo shrugged, fixing his glasses on his face, looking at the other, "I'm still going to miss you though. When you come back, you owe me a round of Teens of Rage."_

 _"Deal," Lars laughed, and sat up, getting his face a little closer to the other's. He found himself staring at the other's wild eyes, and the smaller details on his face, like the soft peach fuzz, his delicate lashes, and his really really cute button nose. He was close enough to see his own reflection in Ronaldo's eyeglasses, and even his own eyes._

 _This was it. Perfect moment. They'd been taking things really really slow in the relationship, having kept their affection to cuddles, and occasional kisses on the cheek._

 _When Ronaldo leaned in to fill the empty space, Lars closed his eyes, and let their lips connect._

 _He opened them only a few seconds later. This didn't feel right. This kiss didn't feel right. There was no spark to it._

 _He pulled back, and looked at Ron, who had a mirrored look of confusion, then disappointment, then a little sooner than expected, acceptance._

 _"...I don't think this is going to work, Ron," Lars admitted softly, voice kind and devoid of the usual snark._

 _"...Yeah," Ronaldo had mumbled, face a little red, "I...don't think this is the type of relationship we were meant for..."_

 _"Right," Lars mumbled, "I mean. I feel really cool cuddling with you and all that stuff...but uh...I think the kissing...that whole thing...I just didn't feel anything there y'know?"_

 _"Me neither..."_

 _"...You're a really sweet guy, and I like hanging with you...but..."_

 _"Perhaps it's not in the stars for us to be together...like that," Ronaldo finished, a look of both disappointment and understanding on his face._

 _"Yeah..." Lars mumbled, "Fuck, sorry now this is all awkward."_

 _"No, no, hey," Ronaldo sighed, "I guess it's a good thing we figured this out. And I guess it works better this way so you're not a lovesick mess on your way back to Palm City," he shrugged, trying to add humor to the situation._

 _"Yeah, I guess that's true," he laughed softly, and flopped against him, "And hey, you're still a good pillow. I'm not planning on giving that up just yet."_

 _"...do you think Steven and Sadie are watching us?"_

 _"No doubt."_

 _Lars then began to laugh softly, and that laughter made Ronaldo's secretly disappointed heart tingle with affection more than their first kiss really did._


	6. The Believer and Writer Share Comfort

_'Sadie I need you now please, Peedee can't help me here.'_

 _Ronaldo half heartedly dumped the phone onto the table beside him, and was left staring at the now blindingly blank wall in disbelief. This had to be a dream. Or a complete hallucination. That was possible for him right? He'd been exposed to enough supernatural forces that his mind had to somehow be influenced by them, and cause him to see things that weren't real._

 _He'd heard of hallucinations being vivid, but would they be...accurate? Ronaldo had a pretty good memory, and could easily remember having hammered in the nails on the wall where the photography and paintings used to hang. Her photography and paintings._

 _His chest was hurting so much, he wasn't sure if it was the emotional agony, or a full on myocardium infarction that would leave him on the floor like his poor father. Stress related deaths seemed to run in their family._

 _On instinct, he'd reached for his phone on the table, without even looking, and instead, his hand went flat, resting on top of the small silver band. Once something to be admired in his eyes, it rested there like the skeleton of a failed hope._

 _Growling, and letting out a frustrated shout, he chucked it across the room, and it ricocheted off of the wall, resting on the carpet. Gripping his curls in his hands, he stared at his lap, panting angrily, face starting to burn red hot. He screwed his eyes shut, feeling tears start to sting, and pulled at his hair until it was close to ripping off the scalp._

 _When there was a knock on the door, he went slack, and stared downward. He wasn't willing to answer it, the door was unlocked anyway, so whether it be friend or foe, they could come in if they pleased._

 _Sadie opened the door wide, and looked at him, "Ronaldo...?"_

 _He looked up at her, aghast, "Florence LEFT."_

 _Looking around the half empty room,seeing the blogger's fiancee's things all unaccounted for, and feeling a twist in her gut, the woman gave a sad look, "Oh man...Ronaldo, I-"_

 _"She's gone. I lost her. It's my fault!", he began to sob, looking absolutely destroyed._

 _"Wh- hey no, no, it's just-"_

 _"But it IS!", he shouted, rage edging in his voice, "I was so BLIND, I should have known she was going to leave me! All my desires, they drove her away!", he cursed to nobody._

 _"Ronaldo, it's-"_

 _"She waited, and waited, and waited for me! I should have kept her while I had the chance, before she grew restless!", he wailed, running a hand down his face, tears and snot streaking across it._

 _"Ron, you had no way of knowing-"_

 _"SADIE, I WAS FUCKING BLIND!", he yelled in her face, staring her right in the eyes._

 _"Ok you know what?", Sadie glared suddenly, frustrations falling free and loose like a leaking bag of water,"You're right! You're absolutely fucking right! You were completely blind! You were so caught up in your obsessions that you never even noticed when she was a crying mess, absolutely worried about you, and how she said so many goddamn times to count that she couldn't take this anymore! Even when you were in earshot you never seemed to even notice when she said that! How fucking stupid and selfish you are! You refuse to admit something is wrong with you, and now you're hurting people with it, and hurting yourself! Are you too damn blind to realize even now? Well? WELL?"_

 _Ronaldo was left without words, and trying to make his lips move, but to no avail._

 _Sadie was breathing heavily, face heated with rage as she stared at him with a glare, and then furiously fumbled in her pocket for her flask. Unscrewing the cap, she took a generous swig from it, wincing as it burned her throat, and slapped it back into her pocket, and stomped over to the other couch in the room, sitting on it, arms crossed, "I have my own problems to deal with, so take that as you fucking will."_

 _Ronaldo took his seat back on the couch he'd been slumped on all morning, staring at his knees, "...I...I just-"_

 _A sob bubbled in his throat, and Sadie immediately regretted everything that she had just said._

 _He wasn't selfish. He wasn't stupid._

 _He was ill. He was scared._

 _While he hoarsely cried aloud on the couch, face in his hands, the other's stomach filled with what felt like sharp rocks, and her own eyes began to water._

 _"O-Oh god, Ron, I'm so-"  
_

 _Another sob ripped from his throat. Her words had torn into his already broken heart even deeper, and she knew that she would have responsibility when things most definitely got worse._

 _Shakily getting up, she slowly walked over to the other couch, and sat next to him while he wailed with despair. Gently clapping a hand on his shoulder, he curled up tighter, and she began to rub his back, trying to calm him._

 _"I miss Florence. I love her so much," he cried._

 _"I know," she mumbled, eyes blurry._

 _"...I don't know what's wrong with me Sadie," he sobbed, voice shot._

 _"I don't know what's wrong with me either," she whispered, blinking away tears._

 _He looked up, tears still hanging on the bottom lids of his eyes, staring at her with such a distraught look._

 _That look made her heart break at the seams. Brain in a whirl, she tried to think of something, ANYTHING to wipe that terrible look off his face._

 _Not giving a second thought, everything was thrown into the open as she crashed her lips into his, and held them there._

 _She expected him to recoil back, but instead, she felt a hand press into the back of her head, pushing their faces closer, her cheeks pressing up against his glasses. Though the action stunned her, she made no move to pull back, and continued to hold the kiss._

 _Ronaldo was too despaired, too heartbroken to push her away. This sort of company he missed, and he knew he'd never get it from Florence ever again. Burying his hands in her hair, maybe he could pretend Sadie was his former lover, and pretend for a moment, maybe even two moments, that he hadn't ruined his own life._

 _Sadie didn't know if it was the alcohol talking, but she didn't recoil a bit when the other jammed his tongue into her mouth, and he probably would end up tasting the alcohol she'd just consumed._

 _In-between the several kisses that followed, his glasses fell off, and his world, both visually and mentally were blurry. He didn't know what he was feeling anymore, it was mostly physical actions taking over now. He could feel her playing with the belt loops on his pants, almost tugging them a little, and sitting up, leaned so he was over her, still not ceasing the heated kisses._

 _A small shiver went up his spine when he heard a soft noise rise from her throat, her breath going across his tongue while it played with hers._

 _Going along with the muscle memory of the intimate moments with the girl who stole his heart, he let his hips drop against Sadie's, and rolled them together._

 _She suddenly pushed him back, and both stared at each other, panting for air. His eyes were unfocused and slightly lusty, hers were growing sharp with realization._

 _"Ron. We can't...I can't do this," she began to speak quickly, face bright red, "I just...your face...I didn't want you to look so sad..."_

 _Sense slowly began to come back to his head, and he sighed, "...I...I'm sorry."_

 _"No no, this is my fault," she spoke sharp, sounding nervous, "I should have thought before I did that-"_

 _"...do you think I'm going to be OK?", he suddenly asked, voice dim._

 _"...I don't know," she admitted, "I really don't know."_

 _She didn't know if she was going to be OK either._

* * *

Lars looked at her with a clearly surprised face, "...damn..." he muttered, "Pretty intense. You got way farther in one day than I did in a whole relationship with him."

"You're not mad?", she asked, looking up from her dinner plate.

"Mad?" he laughed softly, "Nah, why would I be? I kinda got over my crush on him before Thanksgiving of that year," and looked at her empty plate, "Want seconds?"

"No thanks, I think the first plate did me in," she gave a smile, and sighed, "Things got worse for him after that, but then they got a little better after some...stuff."

"Stuff?", he repeated, wanting clarification.

"...um...psych stuff," she mumbled, not wanting to get too much into it.

"Ohhhh," he trailed off, feeling a weirdness in his gut, "Yeesh...poor guy."

"Yeah," she sighed, "Just hoping he keeps doing better, and doesn't hit rock bottom again."

"Hey, if he needs somebody to talk to, he can call me," Lars offered awkwardly, going out on a limb and risk reconnecting to Beach City for sake of his friends.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," she smiled a little, and finished her drink.

"When did he post last on his blog?", he asked, taking the dishes, and starting to clean them.

"Not really sure," she mumbled, "Maybe like a month ago. Something about diamond shards on the beach fusing to mole crabs," and pulled out her phone, using the blogging app to scroll Ronaldo's blog. She paused when she saw the most recent post was from the day before. She quickly began to scan the post.

 _Catch you soon, Beach City Weirdos~! Off to Palm City tomorrow to talk with Scale Media!_

Sadie's mouth dropped, "Lars, he's coming here. Today."

Lars nearly dropped a dish, "Seriously? Gimme the details! Details already!"

"There is none," she responded, looking as shocked as he did, "He just posted yesterday that he's coming here to talk to some media company."

"Oh man," Lars sucked in a breath, and then gave a grin, "You think his brother would tell us when his flight is coming in?"

"Maybe," she mumbled, and quickly texted Peedee, telling him she saw the blog post, and that they were curious when Ronaldo would be flying in.

Pausing, she slapped her forehead, "Crud, time differences, he probably is asleep by now and-"

Her phone beeped, and she immediately read the text, and looked up at Lars, "With the layovers he had, he's due to fly into here in one hour."

He grinned wider, "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

She returned the grin with equal excitement.

Lars immediately called a taxi service to pick them up at the apartment, and they promptly drove to the airport, with hastily made signs, and other decor. With so much stress, Ronaldo probably deserved to be cheered up.

When Ronaldo stepped off the flight, he was pretty sure he was just seeing things, or already getting dizzy off the smog of the city, when he caught someone who looked like Sadie out of the corner of his eye, and grabbed his suitcase from the baggage claim, and turned around to head for the shuttles, and five feet away stood his dear friend Sadie, and a grown-up Lars, grinning like idiots as they held up shoddy signs that read 'Welcome, Mr. Fryman!', and held out a cheap fake flower lei.

While he stood their with his mouth open, Lars spoke up, "Well? Aren't you gonna greet your welcoming committee?"

The sudden laughter from shock and amusement confirmed to both of his friends that their welcome was warm enough to bring back a small part of Ronaldo neither of them had seen in a while.


	7. The Artist, Writer, and Believer Reunite

"Man, it's been forever since I've seen you," Lars snickered as he prepared himself to get crushed by one of Ronaldo's killer hugs, swinging his legs up a little when Ronaldo hoisted him off the ground with no trouble, "You still have your curly fry hair!", he laughed.

"Your hair got long," Ronaldo smiled back, giving Lars' ponytail a little tug, "When did you cut it last?"

"I dunno, probably when I was in Beach City last," he joked, dropping back onto the floor so Sadie could get hauled into one of the monster hugs Ronaldo specialized in.

"How did you guys know I was coming?", he asked once he dropped both of them.

"We were talking bout Beach City, and decided to check out your blog and saw your post," Sadie smiled, careful not to tell Ronaldo that they were specifically talking about him during that conversation. She was relieved to be seeing him smile for the first time in months, and didn't want to jinx it.

"Looks like your stuff went beyond locals!", Lars grinned, slapping Ronaldo on the back, "Congrats!"

"Thanks," Ronaldo smiled a little smugly, pushing his glasses up on his face, "So what exactly were you expecting to happen after surprising me here?"

Lars and Sadie looked at each other, realizing they'd not exactly thought this whole thing through, "We uh...", Sadie began, "...we...didn't think that far," she laughed, and gave an awkward shrug, "Kidnap you maybe?"

Ronaldo and Lars snickered, and then Lars shrugged, "We could shuttle it back to my place, and hang a little while the night is young. I got more food and stuff. I could even show you guys my art stuff..."

"Don't you have work tomorrow though?", Sadie glanced up at him.

"I go to bed late already," he admitted, "The most sleep I get with everything going on is five or six hours."

She sighed, "Try to get more sleep than that, you'll make yourself sick with all the exhaustion," then gave a small smile, "But I guess your idea works. What do you think, Ronaldo?"

"I'm game. Otherwise I'd be spending all night alone in a hotel that probably has a TV with only five channels," he shrugged, fixing his jacket.

"It's settled then. YOU BOTH ARE GOING TO MEET ME IN THE PIT!", Lars exclaimed, cackling.

Ronaldo sat between the two on the shuttle ride to Lars' apartment complex, not half as talkative as Lars remembered him being when they were younger. He knew, from what Sadie told him, that all the problems their friend had been dealing with had more than likely changed him, and tried to not seem too concerned or worried about said changes when he noticed them. At least Ronaldo could still smile. That was a relief.

Once they got inside, Lars quickly had to stop by his neighbor's door to pick up Ellie, thanking the lady for watching her, and without explaining why he was hauling a small, half asleep child into his apartment to Ronaldo, opened the door, and invited the two inside.

Ronaldo looked at Lars, then the child half asleep in his arms, then Lars again, "...Uh."

"...I have a kid now, so uh...yay", Lars shrugged, face flushed, "Long story."

"I see," he nodded, and then the girl's head turned, and she locked eyes with him.

"...Daaaaad, 'nother stranger," Ellie had whined, not having even noticed he'd been with company the whole time.

"Nah, just a living potato," Lars smiled, patting her head, setting her in one arm, "This is my old friend, Ronaldo. Can I tell him your name?"

"No. Tired. Tell him my name is Turtle," she mumbled, still half asleep.

"OK," he sighed, kissing her head, "Go get ready for bed, and I'll be there in a few minutes to say goodnight, 'kay?"

"Yeah," she yawned, and toddled forward as he set her down. Just as she stepped into the hallway, she flopped forward, deciding to sleep flat on the floor.

"Oh fuck," Lars sputtered under his breath.

Sadie nearly burst into laughter, and held back giggles as Lars, looking quite embarrassed, hauled the child off the floor, "I'll uh...be back in a few minutes, guys. Make yourselves comfy!"

Lars helped his daughter into her pajamas, and helped her brush her teeth, and then set her on her bed, tucking her in. She looked at him, still half asleep, "You have too many friends."

He glanced at her as he folded her clothes from the day and put them in her dresser drawers, "Why do you say that?"

"They're making me sleepy," she yawned.

Giving a small snort, he kissed her head, "Get to sleep, Turtle."

Once Ellie had dozed off, he took a moment to give her another kiss on the head goodnight, and make sure she looked comfortable. Lars was anxious to get back to his two friends, but he also liked these small moments with Ellie.

It most definitely made up for the less than pleasant parts of life.

* * *

Once Lars had disappeared into the hallway, Sadie glanced to Ronaldo, "So...are you doin' OK?"

"...I just got here, and you're already worried," he mumbled, giving a dry laugh, "Are you doing alright? You've been in this city longer than any of us expected. Not homesick yet?"

"Nah. Not really," she mumbled, "But seriously, I wanna know how you're doing."

"You sound like Peedee," he snorted softly, "I don't feel anything right now. Maybe a dull excitement, but not really anything. I don't know if it's the medicine I'm taking, or if I'm tired from the flight, but I just...feel...", he paused, and gave a shrug, "Ehhh?"

"Ok," she laughed a little, and gently squeezed his arm, "Keep me posted if you're not feeling OK, alright?"

"Alright," he nodded, and gently fluffed her hair, and left a comfortable silence.

Sadie felt a sense of relief in her chest, knowing Ronaldo was willing to tell her when he needed help now. But she was still conflicted on whether him feeling nothing at all was better than feeling some sort of emotion. She didn't want him to be pained, but she didn't want him to be empty either. She wanted him to be happy, but that wasn't going to be an automatic choice, they both knew that.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd be happier after some time in this city, and then she wouldn't have to worry so much about him. She could only hope for the best.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lars returning, and cheerfully asking "Who's ready to look at not-safe-for-children artwork~?"

"Is it porn? It's porn isn't it," Ronaldo laughed.

"...Dammit he guessed, Sadie," Lars teased.

The laughter that echoed in the room brought Sadie's mind to ease.

 _They could laugh, they could smile._ That was enough to please her now.


	8. The Lighthouse' by the Artist

"Welcome to my porn room," Lars spoke deadpanned as he cleared up his workspace in his living room to show his friends his makeshift studio. Paintings were either canvases hung on walls, or tacked up papers from corner to corner of the wall. Stacks of sketches and figures were laid in sporadic spots on his worktable, and there was an unfinished canvas on an old easel, dry paint caked onto it. Lars grinned, "You like what you see?"

"I like! Very much!", Sadie grinned, "You've certainly gotten a lot better since we last saw you!", and began to scan the paintings on the walls, "These are beautiful!", she grinned to him, "Did you ever show your work in Beach City to Sour Cream's mom?"

"Vidalia? Oh yeah," he shrugged, "She dug my stuff. She's pretty cool I guess. We'd see each other at the same figure drawing sessions sometimes."

Ronaldo smiled, "Your first experience with a nude human body besides your own, no doubt."

"Shut up," Lars laughed.

"She was asking about you a while back," Sadie smiled, "I kind of had to fib and say you were busy."

"That's no fib," he snickered, "Yeah, next time you run into her, tell her I said hi."

"Will do," she grinned, and continued looking at all of the illustrations. Lars had certainly gotten more of a range in his work. Back in Beach City, he made such abstract gritty illustrations that had such graphic detail, they were awesome to look at. He had a wide variety of them on the wall, along with various other styled drawings. She saw what looked like a series of softer looking drawings, like for a child's book, "Did you paint these for something?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, that was for a client writing a children's book," he smiled, sauntering over, "Those took a while. Lots of time and thought. Worth it though, I got paid handsomely for it, and the book sold pretty nicely. I had fun with it," he shrugged.

"I can tell," she smiled, and noticed the paintings of a small child in a few of them, "Did you use your daughter as a model?"

"Yep," he snickered, "She moved so much though, it took days to get the right poses, and I did a bunch of practice sketches of her before I even did these."

"She's so cute!" Sadie giggled, seeing the life he'd brought into the drawings through her.

Lars blushed, "She's something alright," and glanced over, seeing Ronaldo staring intently at a drawing of the old lighthouse back home that he'd drawn from memory, "Uh...you like what you see there?"

"When did you draw this?", Ronaldo asked, sounding a little spaced out.

"I...uh...don't remember," Lars admitted, "I guess a few years ago."

"It's the lighthouse. My lighthouse," the other breathed, still staring at it with awe.

"Er, yep," Lars laughed awkwardly, cheeks flushed.

"It's perfect. My favorite of your drawing is this one," Ronaldo spoke bluntly, still gazing at the small details etched in ink. Every tiny line for wood, bolt, metallic sheen, glass panes, and metal bolts. Lars had gotten it perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"How much is it?", he then asked Lars, who blushed a little.

"Well uh, if you want it, you can have-"

"How much do you charge for it? You deserve full price," Ronaldo grinned suddenly.

"Aw come on man, y' can just take it, you don't have to-"

"How. Much," Ronaldo repeated, still smiling.

"Uh...forty?", Lars shrugged, deciding it wasn't worth arguing.

"Sold!", Ronaldo grinned, and reached into his pocket, then groaned, "Crap, I forgot my wallet was in my suitcase."

"Don't worry about it man," the other smiled, and then grinned, "Hey. You can pay me by buying lunch from my restaurant while you're in town. Deal?"

"Deal," Ronaldo sighed, figuring it was a good compromise. Besides he couldn't say no to his friend's delicious cooking. "I do love myself some Korean barbecue."

"Uh..." Lars laughed, face red, "It's not Korean barbecue even, but it's just as good."

Ronaldo gave a shrug, and took the drawing carefully into his hands once Lars had rolled it up and taped it to stay safe. He continued looking around the room, "So do you still draw naked people?"

Blushing, Lars scratched his cheek, "Not much anymore. The closest studio is a 20 minute drive and I got my kid around with me, so it's kinda weird, y'know? Unless I can get a ride and Ellie a sitter, then I do something else with my weekends."

"Makes sense," Sadie smiled, leafing through stacks of drawings. She came across the ones with nude models, pointing out the different features on some.

She grinned at one set, "Wow you even drew pregnant models? Look at that! She's got a great face!"

Lars glanced over and flushed , "Oh jeez. Uh. Yeah. That was one of my er...models, Maura. _Anyway,_ check out these bad boys," He grinned, gesturing to a series of painted figures. He was _not_ going to bring up Maura with those two.

After a little more touring of his 'studio', and reheating leftovers and a few other snacks, Lars called it a night well spent.

Ronaldo apologetically got up around one in the morning, "I have to get going, I need a good night's sleep for tomorrow. I've got a taxi coming in five minutes."

"Yeah, totally, man," Lars nodded, getting up to walk his friend to the door, "Lemme know how it works out, ok?"

"Will do," he smiled, pulling Lars into a tight hug, nearly hauling him off the floor. Lars gave a yelp and laughed as he was set down, "Jeez man, you're gonna crush me one of these days!"

Ronaldo gave a small laugh, and waved as he headed out, the lovely drawing of the lighthouse tucked carefully under his arm.

* * *

"So," Lars turned, and dramatically draped himself over the sofa arm where Sadie was, grinning like an idiot, "Tell me more about your writing~"

Giving a laugh, Sadie smiled, "Gosh, I already told you most of it, even up to the less savory things."

"Well, OK, but aside from that," he shrugged, "You came here to get ideas right? Did you find any ideas?"

"Want me to be optimistic, or honest?", she glanced at him, folding her legs.

"Be Sadie."

Giving a smile at the response, she then gave an exasperated sigh, "No! This has been horrible up before I saw you! I still don't have ideas! I've been around this city god knows how many freaking times this week, and I'm still drawing a blank! I've gone through all the touring guides and brochures and I still don't have anything I really want to write about here!"

"Well what do you even like to write about?"

"I like to write about _everything_ , you know that!", she whined, "I just...every time I sit at my computer, I go dead, and I don't want to write!", she flopped back on the couch and sighed, "I don't even know why I'm so gung-ho on going through with this. I don't even think I'm good enough to make it very far."

"Wow, OK, who replaced my Sadie?", Lars frowned, and grabbed her by the cheeks with both hands, shaking very gently, "Stop beating yourself upppppp. You. Can. Write. You are telling the guy who stubbed his toe at work and went down like a wimp thirty times a year that you are not good enough to make it anywhere. Shut the hell up," he shook again, "You. Are. Great. And you're going to do great. You're just like...in a slump. A really bad one. And you just gotta dig deeper to find your mojo again. And if that doesn't convince you, I will stand on top of a table at my work and tell everyone how I got my ass whooped by an invisible... _thing_ on an island and you totally destroyed it with your bare feet and a stick."

"God," she laughed, "You sound like me right now."

"Hey, you're influential!", he grinned.

She sighed, "I just want to figure out something I can feel good writing about while I'm here...I just can't find anything all that interesting touring in the city."

"That's easy, burn all the tour books, and let a local give you the best places to visit. Heck, I'll take you to them if I have to, Sades."

"Really?", she smiled, "You'd do that?"

"Hey, you nearly beat my ass with a broom convincing me to apply to culinary school, so I'm returning the favor," he shrugged, giving a smug grin, "But only on one condition."

"Yesss?", she grinned back.

"You let me sketch you before you leave tonight."

"Do I have to be naked?", she laughed.

"Depends," he smirked jokingly, which earned him a shove off the couch.

* * *

By the time Ronaldo got to his hotel room, it was 1AM. He was too worn out to unpack, and promptly crashed on the bed, not even taking off his beat up sandals. He shut his eyes, giving a small groan as he heard his phone buzz madly two minutes later. Looks like the reception finally came through.

He panicked inwardly as he saw three messages from Scale Media, and nearly shredded the screen with his finger as he tried to read through them. Thankfully it was just one email, sent thrice.

 _Mr. Fryman_

 _We're sorry, but we have to ask to reschedule our meeting. Conflicts have come up, and we had to prioritize them ahead. If it is convenient, we can reschedule our meeting in three days time._

 _Once again, sorry for any inconveniences,_

 _Marty Sharp_

 _Scale Media CEO_

Ronaldo groaned. Were these people fucking serious? He had been on and off planes for over twelve hours for this and they were prioritizing something else over him? Oh well. It wasn't like he could argue with them about it. After all, he had to make a good impression on them. Even as he was screaming in his head, absolutely frustrated at how this affected his schedule, he wrote back as calmly as possible, 'Thank you for telling me, I'd love to meet with you then.'

He had two things left to do now: Call Peedee in the morning to give him the news, and figure out what he would be doing for the next three days.

Aside from admire the lighthouse drawing.


	9. The Believer Still Misses Florence

Thirty minutes after returning home from his shift at work, Lars gave a groan hearing the buzzer to his door, not wanting to get up. His feet were flat and sore, and he just wanted to melt into his couch before Ellie grew antsy or hungry and demanded his attention. Granted, it could be Sadie or Ronaldo, but he was useless without a shot of caffeine, and he would be cranky too.

Sighing, he got up, shuffling to the door in his socks and wrinkled uniform, "Coming," and opened the door.

"Surprise dink, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me," grinned Steven, wearing a straw hat, sandals and beach shorts to go with his red 'Professional Beach Hunk' t-shirt.

"Holy crap, more Beach City people," Lars laughed, slapping the younger on the back, "How's it going man? Been a while since I've seen you!" He still couldn't believe how tall Steven had gotten in comparison to him. It could have been gem heebie-jeebies or something, but then again, what did Lars know about that stuff?

"Good, can't complain," Steven shrugged, smiling, "Wow, this place hasn't changed a bit."

"You say that like it's a good thing," Lars snickered, "You were here not too long ago anyway."

"True. Years are pretty short for gems," the other grinned, fixing his long ringlets at the back of his head into a tie, "So 'more Beach City people'," he repeated, "Who else did you bump into besides me?"

"Sadie and Ronaldo are both in town," Lars spoke, still amazed by how it all worked out.

"You're kidding," Steven grinned, "I knew Sadie was out here, but not Ronaldo too...How are they?"

"Fine, fine," Lars smiled, flopping on his couch again, "Man, I am dead."

"You look like you could use a shot of adrenaline," Steven smiled, leaning over the back of the couch to tease his collapsed friend.

"...if that means you spitting on me, no thank you," Lars snorted.

"No no, I meant coffee," he laughed, "I can make you some."

Lars stretched his hands up pathetically, "Yes."

"Sure coming right up," Steven grinned.

"So what brings you back over here? Your girlfriend I'm guessing?", Lars spoke up from the couch.

"Am I really that predictable now?" Steven groaned, then gave a small laugh, "Yeah, for Connie. I'm heading up to Bay City to visit her campus, but decided to make a stop here to bug you a little."

"Mission accomplished," Lars teased, stretching his feet out again.

"How's Ellie by the way?"

"She's fine," Lars sighed, "Still working on the whole manners and 'no kicking people' thing, but she's fine. She wakes up way too early though," Lars groaned, "I don't know how she does it."

"Awww," Steven laughed, "You think she'd remember her funcle Steven?"

"Her what?"

"Funcle. Fun uncle. I made it up," Steven beamed proudly as he brought in the steaming cup of coffee for Lars, who took it in one hand, and took a careful sip.

"I dunno. She might remember you. You were here not too long ago," he shrugged, "Hey Ellie, c'mere!", he called out.

In about ten seconds, the small child shuffled into the room, clinging onto a plastic robot with doll clothes forcefully placed onto it, and she looked up and beamed, "Steeeevennnn!", and ran over to the half-gem's leg, hugging it.

"Whaddya know, she remembers you," Lars smiled tiredly, taking another sip of coffee.

"What did you bring me?" Ellie asked suddenly.

Lars scolded her gently, but Steven laughed, and reached into his ukulele bag, "Let's see...how about...this!", he grinned, giving her a handful of pink flowers, "For you."

Giggling excitedly, the girl hugged at the flowers, looking utterly amazed at their color and the sparkling gems in the center of them.

"Ellie, say thank-"

She scurried away.

"-you."

Steven laughed softly, "She'll get it eventually. But man she got big. Last time I saw her, she could hide behind your leg."

"She still tries to," Lars laughed, then muttered, trying not to snicker, "She's going to throw a fit when those flowers die."

"Put them in a bowl of water, and they should be fine," Steven smiled, "I still have the ones from that first time you helped me with the moss?"

"Oh yeah," the other smiled. In the years that followed the incident at Dead Man's Mouth, Lars ended up helping Steven get the moss to the top of the hill every year. For the first few years it was a matter of speed and experimentation to see how they could get it to the hill without it engulfing them so quickly. Every year it got easier, and the last year they did it before Lars moved away, not a single lump of moss got onto either of them. It had always been kind of fun for them, and Lars honestly missed it.

"You ever talk to those three? Buck, SC, or Jenny?" Steven asked quietly.

"Huh? Oh, nah," Lars mumbled, "I kinda lost touch with them and never really picked it back up. How're they doin'?"

"They're fine I guess, I haven't really talked to them in a while," Steven admitted, "Jenny was asking about you a while back though, wondering where you ended up."

"Aw, really?", Lars laughed, face a little pink, "You think they'd freak seeing where I'm at these days?"

"I think they'd probably think you're pretty cool," Steven grinned, and fixed up his hair, "You've got your life together more than most everyone else I know."

"That's probably an overstatement," Lars rolled his eyes, and took another sip of coffee, "I really needed this, thanks man."

"Anytime. You feel more awake now?"

"Yeah," the other smiled, and set his empty cup on the table, and stretched his legs again. His phone buzzed and he picked it up.

 _Lars that stupid company postponed my meeting and I have nothing to do for three days and I don't want to get lost in this city HELP ME. -Ronaldo_

Lars snorted at the message and sighed, "Oh man, Ron's not having a good time in the city," and texted back that they could meet up for some exploring if he wanted to.

Within thirty seconds, Ronaldo said he'd be right over, and Lars grew flustered, not having intended for them to meet up right then and there, but rather the following day.

Giving a groan, the cook looked at Steven, "...can you do me a favor and watch Ellie for a few hours? I uh...guess I'm Ronaldo's tour buddy for the evening."

"No problem," Steven smiled, and kicked back on Lars' couch.

"I'll pay you whatever when I get back I-"

"Hey no need, this will be fun!", Steven assured.

"OK uh...thanks," Lars flushed, "Just uh...don't give her any magic swords or stuff like that."

"Why Lars, you're talking like I'd endanger a child!" Steven looked up at him innocently.

"Steven last time I left her with you, she was inches away from your lion's mouth."

"He wasn't going to eat her!", he insisted.

Lars rolled his eyes, "OK just...keep her relatively safe," and kicked his shoes on, heading out, "I'm gonna meet Ron out front, so I'll see you later. Tell Ellie I'll be back later tonight," and gave Steven a wave as he left the apartment, pocketing his keys.

Once Lars had left the room, Steven shifted his eyes to the window leading to the fire escape, and looked out, whispering, "Ok, Lion. You can come in now!"

* * *

"OK, so you know all those tour guides telling you to go to the theaters and promenades?", Lars spoke up once he and Ronaldo had met up and were walking to the bus stop.

"Yeah?" Ronaldo glanced over.

"Fuck them. Forget about them, they absolutely gloss over the really really cool secret places here," he grinned, "The places I'm going to show you tonight and whenever I possibly can while you're here."

"Are all of these places legal?", Ronaldo asked, pressing his glasses up onto his nose.

"...80%," Lars nodded.

"Good enough," he smiled, and hopped onto the bus with Lars once it arrived. Crammed between his friend and another stranger, he kept himself drawn in, not wanting to touch anyone or frankly anything on the bus while it bustled down the street. Lars was making quiet conversation to him, pointing out various things to look for out the window. The city was bright and glowing at night, and still so full of people, it was an extrovert's dream.

Lars pulled Ronaldo up at a random stop, and led him off the bus, and began leading him down what seemed to be random, nameless streets. Ronaldo glanced at how...shifty and quiet everything seemed, and mumbled, "Are you going to murder me or something?"

Giving a soft laugh Lars mumbled, "Don't worry, we're almost there," and kept a protective arm around him as he led him through the streets. He led Ronaldo down an old staircase for a subway station, and grinned, "We're here!"

The old station had been lit up with strands of holiday lights, strobes, and various other lights that had been junked and refurbished. On the old, unused tracks were lines of tables with people selling various odds and ends, some people cooking and serving food, others dining. Some musicians were playing on the tracks, some playing up above. Old refurbished furniture was decked out everywhere, and everything smelled both amazing and horrible at once. It was all dim-lit and sketchy, but so interesting to see.

"This place has your aesthetic I figured," Lars grinned, "Weird enough?"

"Oh definitely weird enough," Ronaldo mumbled under his breath, adjusting his glasses again as he looked around. He pulled out his phone to take pictures, the light filtering the whole thing so eerily, it was perfect.

"This station closed down years ago, so people sort of turned it into an underground promenade and stuff. Nobody really knows about it unless you're a local," Lars explained, and took his hand, "C'mere you gotta check out this wall over here."

Lars began to show off a large wall littered with various paintings, graffiti art, and printed works. "It's free canvas for everyone basically. You see that dragon there? That one up at the top there?", he pointed.

Ronaldo glanced up at a huge, Chinese dragon painted up along the top of the wall, every scale painted with detail, "...you painted that?"

"You bet your ass I did. Nobody's dared to touch it yet," he grinned smugly.

Ronaldo slapped his friend on the back, "You just don't stop do you?", he laughed, and took pictures of it, "Wait, is it OK if I-"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just...for my sake don't post it anywhere, OK?", he smirked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "So, you wanna grab a drink and a seat or something?"

"I suppose," Ronaldo shrugged, and getting the sudden feeling his longer curls were getting in the way, pulled out a rubber band from his pocket and tied them back.

"Damn, those curly fries are getting long," Lars laughed softly, reaching up to gently tug one, "Remember when we were kids we tried to make them stay down and they kept sticking straight up?"

"Oh yeah," Ronaldo laughed, "We tried everything. Even peanut butter."

"We didn't even stop there," Lars laughed, "Didn't we almost use glue-?"

"And then my dad started freaking out," Ronaldo finished the sentence, snickering.

Lars then purchased them both a beer, no specific name to the bottle, and they grabbed the space on a beat up couch that was probably used for a hookah lounge in the 70's.

"But your hair," Ronaldo began, "You grew it out. How long are you gonna get it?"

"Eh, I was thinking of cutting it," Lars admitted, glancing at the tail of hair draped over his shoulder, "It's getting tricky to take care of without looking nasty, and Ellie likes pulling on it. A lot."

"Ow," his friend laughed, "But hey, I kind of like it. Maybe if you didn't cut it too short, you could keep the 'fox-tail'."

"Nice name for it," Lars laughed, then shrugged, "Maybe. I kind of started growing it out after I stopped caring if people would make fun of me for it."

"Is that why you got your mohawk in the first place?" Ronaldo decided to ask, taking a sip of the mystery beer. It tasted gross, but all beer did anyway.

The redhead blushed a little, "Eh, maybe. I kinda thought it was cool for a while, and then once I got over here, I kinda stopped caring about it, and let it grow out."

Ronaldo reached over and experimentally fluffed his hair, "I kinda like it! It's still really fluffy!"

"Haha, come on, don't mess it up!", he laughed.

"Sorry," Ronaldo smiled a little, face flushed.

"Nah, it's fine. You get the 'good ex' privilege of getting to cuddle me and shit like that," Lars joked.

"Oh good," he snorted, and fixed his glasses up again.

After a bit more glancing around the area and sipping the questionable brew, Lars spoke up, "Y'ever wonder what might've happened if we stayed together?"

Ronaldo took a little too big of a sip of beer, and almost choked, "Well, I-", he paused, and gave it thought, "Sometimes I do," he admitted, face flushed, "I really did like you. A lot."

"Yeah, I did too," Lars mumbled.

"I mean...even after we broke up," Ronaldo admitted again. That kiss the two had shared, he'd really felt something from it, but when Lars had looked at him with that face of disappointment, he knew it wasn't going to work between them, and decided to make it easier for Lars and lie by saying he felt nothing.

"Really?", Lars looked at him, surprised.

"Yeah...I didn't want you to feel bad about calling it off."

"Oh jeez man, I'm so sorry!", Lars almost laughed, face bright red, "You shoulda told me that earlier and I-"

"It's OK," Ronaldo laughed a little, "I got over it. I mean, yeah I was kind of in heartbreak mode for a few weeks, but it was over after a while."

"I know but, oh god, I wish I'd known that earlier!", Lars mumbled, flopping against Ronaldo, elbow sinking against the other's gut comfortably, "'cause then maybe I could have figured if that kiss was just a fluke for me, and I shoulda given it another shot."

"You didn't have to do that,", Ronaldo smiled, patting his head, "You were busy with your life, I was busy with mine. I just don't think I was cut out for romance in general."

"Huh, no kidding," Lars glanced at him, "More heartbreak tales?"

Ronaldo nodded, sucking in a breath, "And boy is it a doozy. "

"How much."

"I was going to _marry_ this girl. She left me after two and a half years of being together."

"Ouch," Lars winced, and awkwardly rubbed Ronaldo's arm, "That... _really_ sucks, I'm sorry."

Ronaldo sighed, "Nothing I can do about it now. It was all my fault. I haven't seen her in over a year."

"My story's nowhere near as painful as yours," Lars admitted, "Just really tiring to tell. Long story short, there's a reason why I don't talk about Ellie's mom."

"Ah," Ronaldo muttered, "Love is a fickle thing."

"Ain't that the truth," he mumbled, and flopped his head onto Ronaldo's arm, "What'd you even see in me anyway?"

"...I don't know," Ronaldo admitted, "I always felt we just had some sort of connection to each other. I mean, we knew each other since we were in preschool...I still remember you having an accent."

"And the shitty English," Lars snickered, "Remember how you'd scream at the other kids to stop laughing if I messed up a sentence?"

"I remember that," Ronaldo laughed, "And how you'd stare off into space if people took your picture." It was how he found he appreciated Lars' eyes. So dark and curious.

"I dunno how you got a crush on me though," Lars mumbled, "I mean, I was a complete ass to you up until we started talking again."

"Well of course I didn't crush on you then," Ronaldo snorted, "I guess it was a while after we started hanging out again. I got to see the old parts of you that I didn't get to see for a while. And you just seemed to have a lot more to you then. I was always so curious about what you were thinking about when you got quiet sometimes, like you just went off into your own world."

"Aw jeez, you're making me blush," Lars snickered.

"But really. You just seemed so...mysterious. And with all the things you dealt with, you still managed to push yourself to keep moving forward. That's impressive," he mumbled, looking at Lars' face from the corner of his eyes. Even with ten years worth of age and stress, he still looked fairly young, and the scowl he always seemed to have as a teenager had formed into something of a more calmed expression that was fairly handsome to look at.

Lars gave a small giggle, "OK seriously stop, I'm gonna blush again."

"Alright," Ronaldo rolled his eyes, "But you have to tell me what _you_ saw in _me_."

Sputtering a little, Lars sat up, "OK fine!", and glanced around, and mumbled, leaning in close, "I thought you were really cute."

"Seriously?", Ronaldo looked at him, surprised.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "You're like a big teddy bear, and you have a cute nose."

"That's it?"

"Well...no," Lars muttered, "I mean, you get excited over the smallest stuff and it's so cute to watch, I dunno. It made me happy when you got happy, y'know? Even with all the shit we put each other through, when we started hanging out again, you didn't hold any of that shit against me like I did for a while. I dunno how you could forgive me that fast after that, and I dunno how I could either...no offense."

"None taken."

"OK," Lars laughed, "Just...god, OK, well not just that...but you're tough as nails. You went through a lot while I was gone, and you're still here and smiling. I admire that, y'know? A lot."

Ronaldo was bright red, heart beating mile a minute.

"Ron?", Lars snapped his fingers, trying to get him out of his daze.

"O-Oh, sorry," Ronaldo laughed awkwardly, and it left the both of them bright red, and feeling a little woozy from emotion. And probably the weird booze.

Lars glanced over to the free expression wall, "Hey...someone left their paints over there."

"...I see...", Ronaldo looked over, fixing his glasses.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?", Lars grinned.

"Vandalism?" Ronaldo grinned.

Lars cackled madly, and got up, hurrying over to claim the abandoned paints, and the two got to work on spaces of the wall. Lars began to paint whatever came to his mind, random shapes, animals, and words. Ronaldo just seemed to be mixing colors together in a splat on a wall, or doing random anime faces. No judging.

Once the night was over for the two, and Lars' hand was hurting, he'd finished a small swatch mural of marine animals in a painted ocean. Ronaldo had left no explanation for what he finished painting in his space.

When they left together, Lars looked at Ronaldo's paintings, and saw he had painted a heart with painted words.

 _'I hope Florence can forgive me too'_

' _Who cares about Florence,'_ Lars thought in his head, ' _You need to forgive yourself_.'


	10. Amethyst is the Best Parent Counselor

Ronaldo had insisted on taking a taxi back to his hotel alone, bidding farewell to Lars at the bus stop, thus leaving the latter to head home alone. It was close to midnight, when shiftier people were on the streets, but Lars could handle them just fine. He felt he could blend in well enough with his gauges.

Once he arrived to his apartment complex, he headed up the stairs, and pulled out his keys, opening the door, and was greeted by a stoic faced Steven. "Uh...yeah, sorry I was gone longer than a few hours, I know uh-", he began.

Steven pulled out something from behind his back, "What was _this_ doing in your apartment?"

It took Lars a few seconds to make it out in the dim light, but then groaned, sucking in his cheeks when he saw it was Amethyst's whip, "Oh jeez, that's right, she left that here."

"What? When was she here?", Steven asked, suddenly looking angry, " _Why_ was she here?"

"Relax, relax," Lars assured, not wanting Steven to get angry, "It was like over two years ago-"

"And you never told me?" Steven glared.

"Look, she told me not to tell anyone she was here. Nothing even happened!", he exclaimed, "She just crashed on my couch for a few days."

Steven seemed to relax a little, "OK...so...tell me exactly what happened."

Lars groaned, and held back a snicker, "OK fine."

* * *

 _"Took you long enough to answer the door!", the gem snorted as she invited herself into the apartment, shoving past Lars._

 _"Hey, what the- what the hell are you doing here? How'd you even get here?", the redhead scowled, looking none too pleased at his place being suddenly invaded by magical rock ladies._

 _"Oh, I just followed you here from your restaurant," Amethyst shrugged, dropping her bags on the floor unceremoniously, and leaped onto the couch, making herself comfortable._

 _Lars stomped over, "Get off that- YOU FOLLOWED ME HOME?"_

 _"Uh, yeah? Hard of hearing much?", she looked at him from her spot, "Chill dude, it's not like I was trying to find you. I was just hanging out there and saw you working. Besides it's not like anyone besides you is in here right?"_

 _"Uh, YOU are. Now LEAVE," Lars snapped._

 _"Come on," she groaned, "I need a place to crash for a few days! Garnet and Pearl have become such tightwads since Steven got a girlfriend, and I'm not allowed to have fun anymore!"_

 _"Well find someplace else, I've got shit to do," Lars groaned, crossing his arms._

 _"Oh come on, you won't even know I'm here," Amethyst egged on, then promptly grabbed the tv remote, pressing all the random buttons, curious as to what they all did._

 _"Hey, put that down!", Lars scowled, ripping it out of her hands, "I told you, Amethyst, NO. Now leave."_

 _"Aww come on, you used to be chill! I bet you'd let Steven crash here if he was here!"_

 _"Steven isn't capable of destroying everything I own like you! Now I'm giving you the count of-"_

 _A whine coming from the hallway interrupted him, and he gave a throaty growl, "Godammit not now...", and stomped into the hallway._

 _Amethyst, deciding the TV was boring, casually followed Lars into the hallway, and watched him turn the corner. She peeked in, keeping quiet so he wouldn't hear her, and yell at her to leave._

 _The man was leaning over a small crib, tending over a small infant, no older than half a year, who was squirming and crying. His hands were gentle, but his face expressed frustration and exhaustion. It reminded Amethyst a lot of Greg when Steven was really little._

 _"Hey, you never told me you stole a kid!", Amethyst grinned._

 _Lars jerked his head up in shock, then glared and pointed at her to get out, hissing, "Leave."_

 _"Hey I'm just looking!", she insisted, walking over, "So where'd you grab 'em from?"_

 _"I didn't grab her from anywhere," Lars grumbled, "She's mine, and she's going to be the reason I get no sleep tonight."_

 _"Hey, lemme try," Amethyst snickered, and began to make faces at the baby, who only seemed to screech louder._

 _"AMETHYST, GO," Lars growled at her, ready to yell._

 _"Ugh, fine," the gem rolled her eyes, and was ready to leave until she saw Lars being completely unable to quiet the baby, "Wow you don't know anything about babies do you? Did you leave her alone all day?", she asked, smirking._

 _"The neighbor was watching her this morning! I thought you were going to leave!", he snapped._

 _"Nah," she grinned, and in a flash, had shapeshifted into a cat, flopping on his bed, "I wanna see how this plays out."_

 _"You are absolutely no help!", he grouched, and ready to give up, placed the baby back in her crib while she cried and wailed, and he sat on the edge of the bed in frustration. He didn't know what to do._

 _Before he could yell at Amethyst again, the gem, still a cat, had crawled into the crib, and sat over the baby, purring. Hearing and feeling the vibrations coming from the furry animal, the infant slowly began to stop crying, and began to simply murmur at Amethyst._

 _Lars stared in disbelief at how quickly his daughter had stopped crying._

 _"How did...how did you do that," he muttered, staring in shock at the gem cat._

 _Amethyst shape shifted back into herself, and lifted up the baby, "Uh, everybody likes cats right? And babies like animals, so I put two and two together."_

 _Lars was still quiet in thought and disbelief as the gem handed the infant over to him, and she nudged his hand, so he was holding the baby's head, like he'd been often neglecting to do so._

 _"So...can I stay?"_

 _"No!", Lars snapped._

 _"Hey, I shut your baby up, so maybe you could let me crash as a way to thank me!", Amethyst pouted, "Besides, I bought a lot of your doughnuts when you worked back in Beach City!"_

 _"Steven did," he glared, "You only went in to eat the free samples."_

 _"Steven was my messenger boy. All those purchases were through yours truly~", she bragged, patting her chest, "Aren't you going to thank me?"_

 _"Thank you for paying my phone bills as a teenager, now scram," he pointed to the door, still holding the sated baby in one arm._

 _"If you let me stay, I'll help you with your kid~", she bargained, then looked around the room, "Does she have any toys or anything?"_

 _"She's a baby," he grumbled, "Babies don't play."_

 _"Uh, yeah, they totally do," she frowned at him, and looked around, "Jeez, you need a lotta help. Good thing I'm staying to help you out then."_

 _"Wait, I never-"_

 _"Get your shoes on, donut boy, you're gonna be a decent 'Greg' if I can help it," she declared, pulling him by the arm._

 _For the next three days, while Lars was at work, Amethyst would either look after his daughter, find junk to prepare him to look after his daughter, or steal from his fridge. When he arrived home, after yelling at Amethyst for eating his food, he'd begrudgingly let her give him lessons in parenting._

 _On the third day, Amethyst had been pulling her whip in and out of her gem out of boredom when she looked over to Lars, seeing him painting away in his sketchbook while his daughter lay sound asleep on his lap. "Good, you're not sucking at being a Greg." she snickered._

 _Lars flushed with embarrassment, "She just wore out, whatever."_

 _Amethyst rolled her eyes, and sighed, "Y'know, I think I'm gonna head back to Beach City."_

 _"Eh? So soon?", Lars glanced at her, "I thought you said you were sick of it. Why'd you even decide to come here of all places?"_

 _"Well for the second thing, I knew that you came here, and if you had stayed this long without ever coming back to visit, I thought it musta been a pretty cool place. But I think I'm starting to get uh...what's the word...?"_

 _"Homesick?"_

 _"Yeah. That," she mumbled, standing up and stretching. She tossed the whip onto the floor, "Souvenir for the kid," and waved as she headed out, "Wait, can I grab something from the kitchen? For the road?"_

 _"Uh, OK, I guess," Lars shrugged, not looking up from his painting._

 _"And uh...don't tell Steven or the gems about this, OK?"_

 _"...yeah, a'ight," he shrugged, giving a halfhearted wave as he assumed she'd left. He jolted when he heard a ripping metal sound from his kitchen, and carrying the baby in, stood in shock._

 _"Amethyst, you're NOT gonna steal my fridge!"_

 _"No fair!"_

* * *

"I put that whip away because I didn't actually want Ellie handling that thing. I didn't know if it was supposed to explode or something," Lars muttered.

"Ah," Steven nodded, "I remember when Amethyst left. We were worried sick. When she came back, she didn't tell us where she went, so we figured she must have gone somewhere really secret like the Kinder- uh...place she's from."

"Do you want to take the whip back?" Lars asked, "I don't really need it."

"Sure," Steven smiled, wrapping it around his shoulder, "But, hey, Lars, quick question."

"Shoot."

"Do you ever think you're gonna come back to Beach City? Ever?"

"...I don't know," he mumbled, "I have so many memories there, but I guess...I'm trying to stop living in the past so much. And to be honest...I'm a lot happier here..."

"...I understand," Steven nodded. Not everyone was going to be attached to one place forever. He gave a wistful smile, and hugged Lars, "Take care of yourself, ok? Ellie's counting on you."

"I know," Lars smiled back, looking tired, "Say hi to Connie for me, ok?"

"Will do," Steven waved as he headed out.

Once the door shut, Lars kicked off his shoes, and rubbed at his face, feeling worn out from the day. He went into Ellie's room, seeing she was asleep, and tucked her in, kissing her head.

He hoped that she'd someday gain the insight to tell him whether or not he was doing a good job. He was counting on her as much as she did on him.

* * *

Sadie had stared in disbelief at her computer. It was 1 AM, and she had written one thousand words. She had written about her evening with her friends, and especially Lars' advice to her. And her excitement over the prospect of seeing new places to visit.

This was the most she had written in months. It brought a rush of excitement like other 'first milestones' like a first kiss, or first love.

It felt amazing.

She soon went to sleep, unable to stop smiling.

* * *

 **For the record, I finished writing the rest of the chapters of this story today, and I'll be gradually updating this every two days or so, just so I don't rush anything. I'm also writing a sequel to this story too (it's only one chapter, but it will pick up where the end of this story leaves off)**


	11. The Artist's Anger Management

_Mr. Fryman,_

 _We regretfully ask we postpone our meeting for another week, more conflicts have arisen. We're sorry for the inconvenience._

 _Marty Sharp_

 _Scale Media CEO_

"God fucking damn it," Ronaldo had cursed under his breath as he read the email on his phone. He'd just gotten out of bed to take a shower for the meeting he was supposed to have that morning, and they tell him now, 2 hours before, they were cancelling _again?_

By now, he had half a mind to call the company, and demand they cover his hotel fees for the week. Did they think he was a rich guy or something for having a blog? He was near broke, and had he finished college like Lars or Sadie, he would have probably dealt with student loans, which would have left both himself and Peedee broke. He'd have to call Peedee, who would then have to call the airline to reschedule his flights, and he'd have to find a laundry service for his clothes before they got too dirty.

And then there was the medication. Ronaldo had packed three weeks' worth, but once he got down to a week and a half, which wasn't too far off, he'd have to call the pharmacy. He had to call for the stress medication, the prozac, the sleeping medication, figure out the costs of each of them, plus tax, and figure out the individual delivery dates of each, especially since all three, on policy, were mailed. Peedee would probably insist that he could do it, but Ronaldo was so sick of his little brother treating him like an incapable man child or something. He could take care of himself just fine.

Ronaldo dialed the number for the pharmacy he'd found in the district map, so glad he had all his bottles with him, and waited for the dial tone.

 _"Palm City pharmacy?"_

* * *

Lars was having a horrible day, plain and simple.

First, his alarm clock didn't go off, and he ended up sleeping in an extra 45 minutes, and leaving him in a panicked rush to get himself and Ellie both ready for the day. The shower water was cold, he was down to the last bit of shampoo, and he was pretty sure one of his gauges was infected, because it was red and stinging all over.

Ellie was missing one of her shoes, and Lars spent a good seven minutes looking for it before finding it under one of his old paint rags from the night before.

They missed the bus and had to rush for the next one seven blocks away. Ellie nearly tripped, and Lars ended up hauling her like a sack of potatoes. They made the bus, but it was so crowded, Lars had to stand, while Ellie hugged onto his leg, looking nervous at so many different people.

The daycare lady was super catty to him about being late, and as much as he wanted to give her an earful, he had to get to work.

His boss yelled at him for being late, and for having scuffed shoes from running so fast on the concrete. His coworkers teased him all day until he told them to suck it.

The daycare called. Ellie got into _another_ fight. Lars told them he couldn't pick her up right then and there, unless he wanted to really really get fired, and the person on the line seemed so _miffed_ about it.

When he did finally pick her up, she was a cranky mess, and the daycare attendant was giving Lars the dirtiest look he'd ever seen. He responded back with a look equally so.

They missed the bus home, and had to walk the whole twenty blocks. Some guy offered Lars pot while crossing the street, and Lars wanted to ask him who the fuck did he think he was talking to, and no he did not want any, because he didn't want to violate his lease, and none of his friends smoked that shit so it wasn't as fun doing it alone, so fuck off buddy. But because Lars' personality had to remain 'child friendly' so long as his daughter was in earshot, he ignored the man, and continued carrying Ellie home, while she whined the whole time.

Lars remembered he forgot to buy food for dinner, and had to stop at a Malgreens on the walk for groceries. The line was long, slow, and the register decided that they would call in a replacement so they could break JUST as soon as Lars was at the front of the line. Ellie knocked over a display. Lars picked it up.

Ellie refused to eat her dinner. Lars sent her to her room.

His paints didn't set right the night before on one of his sketchbook pieces, so everything he'd done the night before smeared and ruined, and he'd have to do it over.

Ellie decided 10 PM sharp would be the perfect time to throw an ear-splitting screechfest of a temper tantrum, and Lars, exhausted and frustrated out of his wits, was doing everything he could to not lose it with her. He was trying hard.

But when she kicked his face with her foot for the third time in an attempt to get out of her bed, screeching and shrieking, that's when he decided it was enough.

"SHUT UP. GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!" he roared at her, and got up, stomping out and slamming the door.

Steam evaporating from his system as his rage died down, he sank to the floor outside her room as she bawled loudly. He didn't mean to yell at her, he really didn't. He was just so _done_ with everything.

While she cried on the other side of the door, Lars bit his knuckle gently as he tried to contain his stress, deciding all he could do now was let her cry it out. She was probably having as bad of a day as he was.

Running a hand through his hair, he decided he needed a minute, maybe three to fully diffuse before he could try to calm Ellie. He lay on the hallway floor and stared at the ceiling.

Things were bad tonight, but they could have been so much worse.

* * *

 _Lars panted, gripping his fist as he stared at the visible damage he had caused to the wall beside his bed and his daughter's crib. He then looked at his knuckles, and saw the powder from the plaster wall was starting to seep into the red where he had broken the skin._

 _Holy shit._

 _He had been so shocked by the damage to the wall and his fist that he had almost muted out his daughter's shrieking and wailing as she lay in her crib. Lars had been unable to quiet her and lost his temper, sending a fist at the wall._

 _He looked in horror at her, then his fist, then the wall again._

 _That wall could have easily been her._

 _Stepping back, he sank against the opposite wall, legs becoming jelly from the shock and horror he'd caused himself. He didn't care that Ellie was still crying. He was just so terrified of himself now._

 _He remembered how horrible his own father's temper was, how he'd slap him with no hesitation, shout him down to make him eat his dinner, or to shut him up if he thought Lars was 'being mouthy'. Lars didn't want to end up like him. After Lars' mother had left the family, he made no effort to talk to his father. For all he knew, his father could already be dead, and have no idea he had a grandchild. And as far as Lars was concerned, he didn't care if his father was going to die alone._

 _But Lars didn't want the same to happen to him. He loved Ellie, well at least, he thought he loved her, he cared enough to keep her for the last seven months, right? He didn't want to be that parent who is resented by their children. He didn't want to make the same mistakes as his father._

 _Lars had to admit to himself that he had a temper. And that he needed to tame it. It took a whole night of no sleep for him to accept it fully._

 _He was almost relieved he received no expressions of contempt or shame when he stepped into the anger management class, Ellie sat in one of his arms, looking quite disinterested._

 _One night, after several courses, practice diffusing from situations, and individual counseling, he felt ready to take on the worst. During another sleepless night, Lars decided to just roll with the punches. He kept her in his lap, keeping quiet as she refused to sleep, wailing and sobbing. He kept his temper down. He needed to sleep, but he needed to show himself and her that he wasn't going to be like that man he resented._

 _After three hours of crying her throat raw for no particular reason, the child soon quieted down, and stared at him, and he pet her tear stained cheeks, figuring the worst was over._

 _In response, she reached her own tiny hands up to touch his face, to grip his ears, his lower lip, his chin, anything she could grasp._

 _"...Thanks," he smiled, ready to drop dead from exhaustion._

* * *

Once he heard the crying dissolve into whimpers, Lars slowly got himself up, and walked into his daughter's room. She was sat up on the bed, eyes red and puffy from crying, and hiccuping. He sat by the bed, and she turned away from him, shuffling under her blankets.

"Hey."

She hid under the comforter.

"Ellie."

She curled up tight.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you," he spoke, keeping his voice quiet.

She made no other moves, so he rest his head on the edge of her mattress, "I've just been having a very bad day...I guess you were having one too. It wasn't fair of me to take it out on you."

She rolled over, looking at him, ready to cry again. She never wanted her father to yell at her ever again.

He gently pulled her into his arms, and sighed as she curled up gripping her tiny arms around his neck to cling on, sniffling and hiccuping with tiny twitches. "Tomorrow will be better, ok?"

When she made no response, he set her back in her bed, only for her to cling on tighter, "Dad. Stay," she whimpered, voice watery.

"Ok," he sighed, and let her stay in his arms until she finally dozed off, drooling on his shirt.

He kissed her goodnight, and tucked her back into her covers once he was sure she was asleep, and headed to bed himself.

Unfortunately, once he had sat on the edge of the bed, he saw the irregularly colored plaster filling in the wall from two years ago, and swallowed hard, seeing it as a reminder of how things could get much worse if he didn't keep himself tame.

He didn't get much sleep that night.


	12. The Writer, Believer, and Ellie

To be more accurate, Lars didn't get _any_ sleep at all that night. He should have considered it lucky that he had no work shift that day, and he could sleep in, the anxiety from the night before having melted away when he heard his daughter's feet patter quickly down the hall to his room, and heard her open the door.

" _Bà ba_!", she spoke aloud, crawling onto his bed, and sitting across his shoulders while he lay on his stomach.

Giving a tired smile against the pillow, he croaked back in Mandarin, " _Good morning._ "

"Wake up!", she demanded, going back into English, not knowing how to say it otherwise.

" _Xǐnɡ lái,"_ he translated, "That's, 'wake up'."

"Oh," she mumbled, and tried to repeat, words slurring a little, which made Lars laugh.

"I'm hungry," she frowned, and tugged his long hair.

"Alright," he mumbled, still exhausted against the pillow, "What do you want?"

It took her a minute to think what exactly it was she wanted, and when Ellie had decided on fruit, her father had passed out, snoring softly.

"Daaad!," she whined, pulling his hair again, "Stay up!"

"Sorry," he groaned, waking a little, "Dad didn't sleep too good last night."

"Up!", she insisted, pulling on his gauges until he stiffly rose, and shuffled down the hall in his nightshirt and pajama bottoms. He already could feel his eyelids starting to droop, and didn't even question it when his body, feeling like a million weights were tying it down, decided it was going to lay on the couch and stay there indefinitely.

"Daaaad!", Ellie whined, sitting on him.

"Mmmf, give Dad five minutes, baby," he mumbled into the couch cushion, legitimately unable to move now.

"But I'm hungry," she whined, tugging at his hair. When he made no motion to get off the couch, she pouted, and stomped into the kitchen, deciding that if he wasn't going to make breakfast, then she would. Granted, it was hard to open the fridge door at her age and size, and washing the fruit all by herself was even harder, but she thought she did a decent job. Her father wouldn't be too mad about the water and soap on the floor, and countertop, right? Water and soap were clean, so it was ok!

After five minutes, Ellie had her fruit, but her father was still not getting up. She settled on sitting on top of him while he slept like a rock, munching on a soaked peach, getting fruit juice down her chin, and on her pajamas.

This was fine.

* * *

Ronaldo and Sadie had met up for breakfast, and decided to ask Lars if he wanted to join them. Ronaldo was trying to pass the time in the city, so as to keep his mind busy before his meeting coming up that week, and Sadie was trying to get 1000 words of writing done a day, and since Lars seemed to know the best places to show for inspiration, she'd count on him to help her find something to write about.

They both arrived at the apartment, and knocked on the door. When there was no answer the first time, Ronaldo knocked again, louder. Within forty seconds, the door opened, and they were greeted by a small child, peach mush around her face, and clad in pajamas.

"Hi, Ellie!" Sadie smiled awkwardly.

Ellie blinked, and taking another bite of her peach, began to close the door on them.

"Waitwaitwait!", Ronaldo yelped, putting his hand in the doorway so it didn't close, "Where's Lars- I mean, your dad?"

She swallowed, and pointed to the couch, where Lars was draped pathetically.

"Lars, are you sick?" Sadie asked, looking in, "Lars?"

"Lars is dead, leave a message," he groaned half asleep from the couch.

"Are you ok?", she asked, stepping in, giving a kind smile to Ellie who looked none too pleased at guests this early in the morning. Ronaldo looked at the child, and followed Sadie.

"I didn't get any sleep last night," he groaned, "I just need like...five hours...or days...to recharge."

"Yikes," Sadie mumbled, and looked at his state, and then his daughter, "Uh...I think Ellie made a mess in the kitchen."

"God," he groaned, and began to stiffly rise.

"Wait wait wait, why don't...Ronaldo and I take care of it?", she offered.

"We're doing what now?", Ronaldo looked up from his spot on the floor where Ellie had instructed him to sit while she tried to kick him in his thigh repeatedly.

"Helping Lars clean his kitchen," she repeated, and lifted him up while Ellie kicked his thigh again.

"Ellie don't kick Ronnie," Lars mumbled from his place on the couch, "He's not a burglar."

Sadie mopped the floor, while Ronaldo cleaned the counter and dealt with the dirty dishes left in the sink, putting them away. Ellie stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching them, and looking bored. She stamped over, and dropped her peach pit in the sink, and Sadie promptly picked it up and tossed it in the trash.

When the two returned into the living room, Lars was still a complete lump on the couch, and absolutely motionless. Sadie went over and poked him, "...Do you want us to take Ellie off your hands for the day?"

"What are we doing now?", Ronaldo whined as Ellie was back to kicking his thigh.

"Babysitting," she smiled, then looked to Lars, "Well? How about it? Want us to take her out of the house for the day so you can refresh?"

Lars lifted his head up, and whispered like he was deathly ill, " _Yesssssssss_."

''That settles it then," she nodded, "Is there anything we need to know, phone numbers, allergies, stuff like that?", she asked.

"Phone numbers are in the kitchen," he mumbled, rolling onto his back, "No allergies, she doesn't like pineapple though, makes her stomach hurt."

"Got it," she nodded, and noticed the girl was still in pajamas, "Uhhh, does she need help getting dressed?"

"She can figure it out on her own," he mumbled, and called out, "Ellie, go get dressed for the day, Ronnie and Sadie are going to take you out today, alright?"

She looked over from her kicking, and scurried into her room without a word. Ronaldo sighed as he stood up, feeling like his thighs would be bruised by the end of the day.

"Sorry, she still kicks," Lars sighed, "She gets into trouble at daycare for that."

"Oogh, no kidding," Ronaldo groaned, rubbing his leg. He didn't remember ever being such a...rambunctious child.

When Ellie came back out in a dress with tiny seals on it, she slapped a hairbrush in her father's hand, and still out of it, he brushed her hair gently, effortlessly putting it into two small pigtails, "There we go," he yawned, "Have fun, Ellie."

"Bye, dad," she spoke under her breath, slapping his head in an attempt to give him a pat, and stood between Sadie and Ronaldo, looking up at them, "...Go," she nodded, as if she was waiting for them to take charge.

Sadie sighed, giving a small laugh, "Alright, Ms. Ellie. Where do you want to go?"

"Home," she spoke as soon as the apartment door closed behind them,

"Well your dad has to rest, so where else would you want to go?"

Ellie stared at her like she was wearing a lobster suit.

Ronaldo decided to take over, "Ok, let's put it this way, you have two options, we can either go somewhere like the park, or we can go absolutely nowhere, and stand right here until the sun sets, and you'll be very bored."

Looking like she was giving it a lot of thought, Ellie looked up at them both, "Park."

"Excellent choice," Ronaldo spoke calmly, and began tapping on his phone for directions to the nearest park. Sadie glanced up at Ronaldo, and whispered, giving a smirk, "How did you know how to do that?"

"I have a great skill in diplomacy, both intergalactic and domestic," he smirked back.

Unfortunately, Ronaldo's phone was still hooked to the directions of the Delmarva area, and because of it, they were stuck riding in circles on buses, getting lost. It wasn't too much of a loss though. Ellie seemed to be enjoying the bus rides, sitting between Sadie and Ronaldo like she was a queen and they were her private bodyguards. Especially with Ronaldo humoring her as such, calling her 'your majesty'.

Ellie grew bored soon though, and Ronaldo reluctantly let her play on his phone. She became enamored with one of the tiny apps that came along with it, almost refusing to hand it over when the bus soon reached a park area, even when Ronaldo insisted he had to save the battery. Thankfully, with a quick distraction by Sadie, she gave it up.

At the park, while the girl enjoyed jumping about and unknowingly terrorizing an anthill on the tiny playground, Ronaldo and Sadie sat on a bench, keeping an eye on her.

Sadie glanced over to Ronaldo, who was watching the girl stomp about excitably. "You're smiling," she observed.

"I am?", he glanced over, as if he had been unaware of his presentation.

"You usually don't smile that easily. At least you haven't in a long time," she explained.

"...I wasn't aware of that," he admitted, "But...I guess I feel a little better."

"Even with all the meetings postponed?"

"Even then," he nodded, "It was...nice to get away from Beach City for a while. The weirdness at home can even be _too much_ for me sometimes," he admitted, "This was a nice change of pace."

"I'm glad you think so," she smiled.

"How's your writing going?", he asked.

"Better," she smiled, "I haven't written this much in months...I feel like I'm starting over new, and it feels great...All this stuff that's been going on feels so refreshing, and I feel like I _want_ to write again, not that I just _have_ to."

"I'm really glad to hear that," he spoke genuinely, fixing his glasses on his face, "I always thought you were destined to be a writer."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "I mean, you were able to solve all those horror movies in a flash, able to simplify the most complex of tales, and understand them. You do your research," he rambled.

"Aww, gee," she laughed, face turning pink, "Well, hey, I guess this trip was what I needed. I think it's what we both needed."

"Ditto," he nodded, and leaped up to 'his queen's aid' when Ellie was getting attacked by the ants who wanted revenge for their damaged colony. While she whined and stomped at them, he lifted her up, "Fear not milady! These rebellious souls will not harm you any further- huh? Woah! Hey! Gitoff gitoff gitoff!", he yelped, stamping at the little pests as they crawled onto his shoes to nibble at his toes.

Sadie, armed with a bucket of water she got from the nearby public fountain, ended up joining them, washing the ants off their shoes, and left all three of them with muddy footwear.

It was all worth it, when Ellie took one of their hands in each of hers, and insisted on walking like that for the next three blocks.

"She approves of us, thank goodness, " Sadie snickered to Ronaldo.

That didn't stop Ellie from deciding to kick at Ronaldo's shoes later.

* * *

About an hour before his friends returned with Ellie, Lars received a phone call, and reached from his mound of blankets. Mop of hair in his face, he took some loose strands out of his mouth, and answered, "H'lo?"

"Hi, are you Lawrence Cheng?"

"Yes," he spoke, knowing it was serious if his full name was used, and cleared his throat, "How may I help you?"

"This is Mr. O'Neil from Diamond Publishing. I wanted to let you know the book you illustrated under our publisher last fall, _The Paper Tiger_ , is up for the Holdencott Award."

"...you're kidding," he breathed. That award was given out as a pretty prestigious honor for picture books.

"No sir, I'm not. The decisions for the award will be made two to three months from now, but we wanted to let you know ahead of time, and congratulate you and your writer on the nomination."

"I...uh...well...thank you," Lars began to laugh softly.

"You're welcome sir, have a wonderful day," the man smiled, and hung up.

Lars was unable to stop grinning like an idiot, and grinned even more when he told his friends as they returned, thoroughly exhausted by Ellie. He had finally accomplished something with his illustration career. Even if he didn't win, a nomination was something to be admired. He'd be known by more people. More appreciated.

He was flipping through his own copy of the book, gazing at his illustrations, ignoring whatever he may have hated about them in the past, and whispered to himself, T _hese are winners. Award winners._


	13. The Believer's Wellbeing

"But I'm telling you, I don't want that guy cooking my food!", the customer complained, pointing at Lars' coworker, Chen, "I want an _authentic_ Japanese meal!"

Lars sighed, "Look sir, we're the only two cooks on duty at the moment, and it's really not going to make any difference if we had a Japanese cook on duty."

For the last ten minutes, Lars and his coworker had been trying to handle this particularly difficult customer who was insisting that the dish he wanted, _samgyeopsal,_ would taste the best if it was prepared by a Japanese cook, and upon learning both cooks on duty were Chinese refused to take it.

Ronaldo walked in to treat himself to lunch and visit his friend in the middle of the argument, and watched from a corner.

"Get your Japanese guy in here to make it for me! He's less likely to mess it up!"

"Sir, I don't understand how we could mess it up, especially if it's a dish we make here on regular", Chen spoke, getting annoyed.

Lars added with a huff, "Besides, that dish isn't-"

"I said I wanted it authentic, not made by some Chinese guys, now get your other guy in here before I-"

Ronaldo stepped in, deciding he'd heard enough of this guy in one day, "Look, _buddy_ ," he growled, standing a good foot over the other customer, "This isn't a strictly Japanese restaurant, it's a restaurant that serves different Asian cuisines in America, so you're not going to get anything 'authentic' in the first place. You want an authentic Japanese meal? Eat in Japan! The cooks have to follow very specific instructions for each meal so the quality and recipes will remain _exactly the same_ no matter who makes it. And second," he growled, lifting him up by his shirt with no trouble, "You're a complete idiot. S _amgyeopsal_ is _Korean._ Even my kid brother knew that! So I suggest you take an Asian culture class and _shove the textbooks up your ass_ before you come back in here and harass the chefs here ever again. Now how about you get your weeaboo ass out of here and apologize to these gentlemen before I-"

Lars gently nudged Ronaldo's shoulder, "Chill. I got this, bud," and made him drop the nasty customer, and promptly took his place, gripping him by the shirt collar, "What he said, and furthermore, if I ever see your sorry ass around this restaurant ever again-" he lifted one of the knives used for chopping and sent it cleanly through a thick eggplant on the cutting board nearby with a loud clanging noise that followed, "-That is gonna be your grubby little hands! Now get outta here before Chen and I put a foot in your ass!"

The customer yelped, and strangled out an apology before fleeing the restaurant, almost tripping on his own gangly feet while the chefs cackled madly.

Lars snickered, "Well, can't wait to see that guy's Welp review. Or tell the boss about this. Sake shots again."

"Who wants to bet his google icon is an anime girl with big tits?", Chen laughed before getting back to work.

Lars gave another laugh, and turned back to Ronaldo, and gave a shrug, "You didn't need to do that. We deal with these kinds of customers all the time. It's sort of a thing that happens, man. I'm just glad you were never as much of a weeb as that guy."

"I am too. And I prefer the term 'otaku' thank you very much," he smiled, "I try to be _respectful_."

"So you've told me," Lars laughed as he continued chopping veggies on the cutting board. Sure, Ronaldo could be annoying about his love for those sort of things, but he meant well.

"At least back in Beach City, the worst you'd face is getting called 'donut boy' for your ears."

Lars gave an awkward look, pausing the knife against the board a second, "Not exactly. I'd still get names thrown at me for being Chinese and looking as I did," he wrinkled his nose, "And believe me, nothing as cute as 'donut boy'."

Ronaldo frowned, "Oh...wow...uh...I didn't know that..." Now he felt really stupid, as if he had been blind to the harassment his friend faced.

"Hey, it's OK," he shrugged, "You didn't know. It doesn't really happen in the open much anyway. It still makes me angry, but it's just something I gotta face: People can be shitty all over."

"It wasn't anyone we knew who called you things, was it?"

"Nah. Just a bunch of losers. Most people in Beach City are still pretty cool," Lars smiled, "At least from what I remember." He finished chopping the veggies, and set them on the grill table, adding spices and marinade to them as needed, and looked back up at Ronaldo, "So what do you want? It's on me today."

"Really?"

"Hey, it was worth the cost of lunch to see you lift that weeby meatbag like he was air," Lars snickered, "And I'm about to head to my lunch break, so I can hang with you while you eat."

"Wow, thanks!", Ronaldo grinned, "So can I order the Korean dish that jerk rejected, made by my good Chinese friend?"

"Yes, you may, _sir_ ," Lars snickered, and immediately got to work, "And don't worry, I won't spike it with sriracha or anything like I would back in Beach City."

"You better not, you jerk!", Ronaldo laughed.

In a short amount of time, Lars presented his friend with a delicious plate of samgyeopsal, and hurried to the back room to grab his own lunch, a boxed lunch that he had packed at home.

"You still make bentos?"

"Yeah sometimes. I always thought they were pretty cool," he shrugged, "I learned how to make them when I took that high school trip to Japan, and I sorta got pretty good at fixing them up."

"Remember how I'd beg for you to let me eat yours?", Ronaldo laughed.

"Oh yeah. You were sooo fucking annoying," Lars snickered, "I was tempted to give you your own box to shut you up."

"Why didn't you?", he whined.

"I didn't actually have another box," Lars admitted, "I was willing to fly back to Tokyo and grab one from the airport."

"Awww just for me," Ronaldo laughed.

"Just for you," Lars snickered, and munched on a strawberry from his box.

After a while of idle chattering, Lars glanced over, "Uh, can I ask you something sorta personal? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Shoot."

"So uh, when I was talking to Sadie a while ago, she um...mentioned you were having problems, and uh...went through some psych stuff..."

"That was a while ago," Ronaldo cut in, face red, and stomach starting to twist. He didn't want Lars to worry about him. He _really_ didn't want someone else worrying about him.

"O-OK, well, uh, I was just gonna ask...are you doin' alright?"

"I'm fine," Ronaldo insisted, "I'm feeling a lot better."

Lars sighed, "OK...but y'know I deal with stuff kinda like this, and uh-"

"I'm not _depressed_ , Lars!" Ronaldo snapped.

The other sat up a little, a bit taken aback by his tone. Ronaldo sighed.

"Sorry. It's just...I'm doing better, and I really don't want anyone worrying about me, OK? I'll be fine."

"...OK, if you're sure," Lars shrugged, concern still in the back of his head.

He didn't know exactly what Ronaldo went through, and he figured he probably never would.

* * *

 _Ronaldo wasn't exactly sure if he liked the small room he was assigned to. It wasn't confining, but it was definitely a step down from his apartment. The walls weren't blinding white like he'd predicted, but the blue color they had definitely wasn't his favorite thing to be inhabiting._

 _He was going to be given a schedule of activities every day that he stayed there. He promised himself he'd follow the schedule as closely as possible, and was more than a little frustrated when the orderlies insisted that he didn't have to follow it to a T._

 _The therapy sessions were even more frustrating to sit through at first, Ronaldo didn't know why he agreed to do this. Maybe because he didn't like seeing Peedee worry so much over him, or feel like Sadie's problems were getting worse because of him, Maybe there was the underlying, impossible hope that Florence would see him healthy, happy, and not grasping helplessly for control in his life like a wanderer thirsty for water, and take him back._

 _That was unlikely, considering how long they had been apart, well over a year, and she announced her engagement to another man online a week ago._

 _Peedee visited him every day until Ronaldo had to specifically ask him to stop. Sadie visited twice a week. One time, she smelled strongly of alcohol, and Ronaldo had suggested she go home._

 _Up until now, Ronaldo hadn't ever truly considered himself as possibly being mentally ill, thinking it was something that was a rare occurrance, or that he would have immediately known at the first symptom. He thought his habits were just simply 'weird'. He hadn't ever been suicidal like Lars had, or had panic attacks like Peedee did sometimes. He realized how simplified his understanding of things had been now, and just wanted to know if it was even possible for himself to get better at this point._

 _He wished he could go home, and even if he knew he could leave at any time, he really couldn't. Not if he wanted to gain control of his life again._

* * *

"Thanks again for lunch, that was great," Ronaldo smiled, and fixed his glasses on his face.

"Sure thing. So when's your big meeting with that company now?", Lars smiled, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he got back to work.

"Day after tomorrow unless they cancel again," he rolled his eyes.

"You nervous?"

"...Do I look like the type of person to be nervous, Lars?"

"I have no idea man, you get excitable so much, I never know if it's nervousness or not!", he laughed.

"Well...I don't know. Maybe a little? This will be big for my blog if it goes well."

"Hey, best of luck, OK?" Lars cracked a grin, giving a thumbs up, "Let me know when you get famous."

"Will do," he laughed, "I'll talk to you after the meeting!"

Ronaldo headed off with a wave, and Lars couldn't help but give a silent prayer.

 _That meeting better go well. I don't wanna see what will happen if it doesn't._


	14. The Writer finds Inspiration

**I'm gonna see about updating this every 1-2 days or so, since it's all written now. Read and review!**

* * *

"So are you going to let me read what you've written so far?", Lars asked Sadie as he leaned over her chair while she ate lunch in his kitchen, and worked at the same time.

"No way!", she laughed, "I wanna finish this piece before anyone sees it!"

"What, no constructive critique even?", he pouted playfully.

"Lars, who got all A's in writing class?"

"Uh, me, obviously," he snickered, and plopped in the chair across from her.

"You slept in that class," she smirked, "I got the senior class award for it, remember?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, you never let me forget it," he teased gently, and refilled her cup of tea, "Need any sugar with that?"

"Yes please," she nodded, reaching for the little bowl of sugar cubes. Lars always made his tea black and bitter, and she couldn't stomach it without at least five servings of sugar.

Lars reached for a strange looking little treat from a plate on the kitchen counter, and Sadie looked over, "What's that?"

"Oh, Ellie and I made these this morning," he shrugged, handing her one. It was a little homemade Rice Crispies treat with little pretzel sticks stuck everywhere in it like a spiky ball.

"Aww these are cute!", Sadie laughed, "What's with the spiky shape though?"

"Long story," Lars laughed, "I took Ellie to the nautical museum a while back, and for whatever reason, she went nuts over the sea mines. Now she loves anything that is round and has spikes."

"Oh gosh," she giggled, "That's funny."

"Yeah, she went even more nuts when her daycare took a trip to the aquarium and she saw urchins in the petting zoo tank. She still keeps asking me for a pet urchin. I told her when I'm able to find my long-missing pet lobster, Harry, then we can get a pet urchin so he has a friend when he returns."

"You don't have a pet lobster named Harry."

"She doesn't know that," Lars snickered, and both began to burst into immature snickers at the expense of a toddler.

"So you have any plans for the day?", Sadie asked him as she continued typing away.

"Aside from this? Nah. How about you?"

"I'm free once I finish this page," she smiled, "Aaaaand, done!"

"Can I read it now?"

"I said I finished the page, not the piece!", she sighed, "But I guess I can let you read it."

"Gimme gimme," he grinned, smooshing against her on her chair to look at it. He cracked a grin at the mentions of the city, and the sights he'd shown her in the previous days, "This is nuts!", he snickered, "I like it!"

"Aww," she blushed, and gave him a quick side hug, "Thanks. So uh, what do you want to do for the rest of the day then?"

Lars was about to crack a sex joke. She knew it. But before the deed could be done, the sound of three year old mayhem caught their ears, and Lars got up, "Ellieeeeee," he groaned, "Please do not be doing what I think you're doing..."

The toddler had dumped a box of Legos all over the living room floor, and was sticking them all together into one big clustered mass.

"Ellie are you going to use all those Legos?", Lars frowned, crossing his arms.

"...I don't know," she mumbled, looking at her mass of blocks.

"Well you dumped them all out, so as expected, you should be using them all, right?", he glanced at her.

She looked at the unused blocks on the floor, and quietly began to shovel some into her arms and drop them back into the box.

Lars broke the disapproving look to glance at Sadie with a grin that read ' _I'm the best parent ever_ ', then went back to his look of fatherly disappointment, which made Sadie giggle.

"Hey don't laugh!", Ellie whined, pouting at Sadie.

"S-sorry," Sadie stifled a giggle.

"Yeah Sadie, don't laugh!", Lars looked at her, grinning.

Sadie gently punched his arm, "Ok, sorry," she smiled, and looked at the mass that Ellie had made, "What is that you're making?"

"Beach ball," she spoke softly and then without warning threw it into the air, and it hit the ceiling, raining Legos everywhere.

Lars yelped, "Ellie!", and looked around to see where everything went, and then scolded her, "Pick all of those up, young lady!"

She pouted at him, but didn't argue, and began to put them all away. Lars grabbed some that had fallen on the couch, and put them in the box for her, and then looked over to see Sadie helping, "Hey, don't do that, she's gotta learn responsibility."

"Oh, I was just putting away a few," she shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry."

Ellie looked up to Sadie, and chirped, "Thank you!"

Sadie was trying not to die, finding it absolutely adorable. She hoped Lars was proud, since it seemed she was finally picking up manners.

Once all the blocks were cleaned up, Lars glanced over to Sadie, "Do you wanna go out somewhere or what? I sometimes take Ellie to the waterfront to play on my days off."

Sadie smiled, "Sure!", and then shrugged, "Want to invite Ronaldo?"

"Eh, I talked with him this morning, he's sorta prepping for his conference or whatever tomorrow, so I think he probably wants to focus on that today, y'know?"

"Oh yeah," she nodded, "We should talk to him after tomorrow, and see how it went!"

"No doubt," he grinned, and glanced at Ellie, "Grab your boots, Brick Thrower, we're goin' to the beach today."

"Can I swim?", she asked.

"No way, too cold this time of year," he frowned, "You'll freeze."

She pouted, but didn't argue, and instead grabbed for a plastic bucket and shovel in the closet next to her boots. With shameless precociousness, she stood between her father and Sadie, "Go!", she insisted, waiting for one of them to open the door.

"Can you say that again using manners?", Lars asked her.

"Go pleeeease," she whined.

Sighing, he picked her up, hauling her over one shoulder, and kicked the door open, reaching his other hand out for Sadie's. Blushing a little, she took his hand and followed him out of the apartment, and outside. The mid-autumn air was far less chilly than in Beach City, but it did still have a certain nip to it that tickled her nose.

Lars occasionally glanced at her as they walked down the street, most of the walk done in a comfortable silence. At least, Sadie thought it was. It almost felt like she was a part of Lars' new, small family, maybe not permanently, but for that short while. It was very warming.

Once they reached the waterfront, or what Ellie considered a beach, Lars crashed on a bench, and pat the seat beside him for Sadie. She plopped down, and rest against him, watching as the small child played on the strip of sand, splashing her feet in the tide when it came in, and poked her shovel in the wet sand. Lars stuck his hands into his coat pockets, crossing his ankles, and looked around.

"This kinda reminds me of Beach City when it got cold," he admitted, "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Sadie responded softly, voice a little hoarse from lack of speaking, and she cleared her throat, "It's not as foggy though. Remember how soupy everything was in the mornings where we had to open up."

"Yeah," he laughed softly, "I think I almost crashed my bike one time, it was that bad," and rolled his shoulders, "It never really gets that bad here. The weather's usually pretty nice here. It gets smoggy up in the hills though with all the pollution over there. Kind of glad I'm not near that."

"Oh I bet," she smiled, "You had the worst asthma when we were kids."

"Not as much as Ronnie. His was worse than mine."

"Aww," she laughed, "Inhaler buddies!"

Lars blushed, "God. We actually did get called that once I think. We both had an asthma attack during a kickball game at school from all the dust getting kicked up, and we both got sent to the nurse's office, and she called us inhaler buddies because our inhalers were color coded," he snorted.

"That's cute!", Sadie laughed, "It was like you guys were twins!"

"Yeah," he mumbled softly, "I feel bad our friendship and stuff went off the rails for such a long time, I was such a shithead."

"Hey what's past is past, right?", Sadie nudged his arm, "You two are friends again now, and that's what matters."

"I know," he mumbled, "Still can't help feel guilty, y'know?"

"Oh well," she sighed, and gently squeezed his arm, watching Ellie dig in the sand, "Your daughter is beautiful Lars, you're lucky to have her."

"I know," he murmured, cheeks pink from the slightly chillier air, "Never expected to have her, don't regret it though. I just wish I didn't have to handle it alone as long as I did."

"Well, hey, things turned out ok anyway," Sadie smiled, nudging his arm again, "Score one for you."

He glanced at her, and his face grew warm at her smile, the one he fell in love with years ago, "Yeah...score one for me..."

The outing soon stretched out into several hours, with the three walking through the city, catching a ride on a double decked tour bus, not caring where it went, they just sat on the top, all squished in one seat, Sadie against Lars who held his daughter to his chest, grabbing dinner from a train station deli, and returning to the waterfront to watch boats, chatting about how much all the boats reminded them of the docks back home, and of Sour Cream, and his father. And somehow that conversation led to Steven, and how tall he'd gotten, how strong and muscled, how long his hair had gotten, how he'd gotten a girlfriend. Ellie chimed in some things that surprised Lars, such as the insistence that she rode on a lion the last time he visited, and how he let her shoot a bow (Lars would give him a stern talking to later). Then that conversation led to the gem ladies, and how Sadie had become such good friends with them, how every so often they'd ask her if she still kept up with Lars, and if he was doing well.

Every conversation they had that night seemed to lead into another one, and they were both talking even as it got late, their throats grew hoarse, and Lars' little girl grew sleepy. Lars returned his daughter to her room once they reached his apartment, and then stood with Sadie outside the door.

"Hope I see you in the next couple of days...", Lars mumbled, scratching the back of his head, "Still planning to stick around the city longer?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "I'm having better luck here, so I don't see why I wouldn't."

"Great," he grinned, that stupid dumb smile from when he was a lovesick teenager stuck on his face again. The smile that Sadie found completely irresistible.

Lars slowly leaned down to reach her, not needing to do so as much as when they were kids, and she met the short distance by standing on her toes, and their lips connected in a gentle, slow kiss.

It was too short. It was so good it was unfair it was that short. When Lars pulled back, both their faces were a dusted with a light pink, and their hearts beating a mile a minute.

"Well...goodnight," he mumbled.

"Night," she mumbled back, giving an awkward smile and a wave as she headed down the hallway to the elevator.

Lars' chest was feeling tight, and his head was almost racing with a million different thoughts all about her. Should he have kissed her longer? Asked her to stay the night? What would they do? Was she ready to jump into that part of a relationship again? Was he ready for that?

He went inside, and sank to the floor, feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again. Today was a wonderful day. He felt like Sadie had been a part of his very small family.

He wondered and hoped if she ever would want to become a permanent part of it.

* * *

"So it's really going to be tomorrow, huh," Peedee spoke softly over the phone.

"Yeah," Ronaldo murmured, "Called their office today to confirm it. All's good to go. If they cancel on me tomorrow morning, I'm probably just going to go home and write a scathing post on my blog."

Peedee gave a small laugh, "That's the way."

"Running the shop ok?"

"Yeah. Business is slow but steady as it's always been, " the younger brother sighed, then made a noise of contemplation, "I've been wondering if I really want to keep running the shop. I mean...it was more of dad's business than anything, and we're basically running on a lease now, and when that lease runs out, are we going to have enough to re-new it and still make profit?"

"I always thought you liked running the shop," Ronaldo mumbled, confused.

"I did. But with dad. But he's...gone now, and well, it's not the same running it alone. It's... _lonely_."

"Oh...", the elder brother spoke softly, not actually having realized how Peedee felt about the whole thing.

"I always was kind of jealous how you were able to do your own thing, with your blog, and the lighthouse, and you always had fun with it...well, for a while at least," Peedee admitted, "I was never good at that stuff. I don't exactly know if I'm good at _anything_ besides this business."

"Hey, you were pretty good at painting," Ronaldo tried to give a little humor, "Remember the lessons you took from Vidalia?"

"That was more of a hobby. I'm not like Lars or Vidalia who made that their living...I just liked doing it for fun."

"Well...why don't you try doing something that can be a living and for fun?", he tried to be supportive for his little brother, to show he was capable of being strong too.

"That's what the shop used to be," Peedee sighed.

Ronaldo was quiet for a while, then spoke up, "Hey...if...things don't go good tomorrow...I'll come back to Beach City. And we can run the shop. Together."

"Really?," Peedee spoke up, sounding a little excited, "You'd do that?"

"Sure, bro!", Ronaldo spoke with his old excitability.

"W-Wow...that's...really cool of you..."

The line was quiet for a while.

"...hey...Ronaldo..."

"Yeah?"

Peedee smiled, "Good luck tomorrow."


	15. Disbelief

**Another daily update! Be sure to leave a review, favorite, kudos, etc!**

* * *

The glass doors to enter the building of Scale Media needed desperate cleaning, Ronaldo first observed as he walked in, holding a folder of all his information, and a notebook for ideas. Ideally, this meeting would be for a few hours, maybe more, especially since he would make sure they came to good conclusions and settled on the right ideas.

Upon entering the headquarters, Ronaldo noticed how small everything seemed in comparison to what he expected. He'd expected a swanky skyscraper of a building, but if anything, the whole building was ground floor, and he was pretty sure this place was hosting more than one company. Maybe it was a big room beyond the door?

He sat in one of the small boxy office chairs that had been laid out, and looked around to see if anyone else was here. Nope.

Maybe this was the wrong address?

Eventually a door opened, and a lanky man with bleach white hair and strangely rigid teeth poked his head out, "...Are you...Renaldi?"

"Ronaldo."

"Right right! Ronald! Come on in!", he grinned like a shark ready to eat some poor unsuspecting minnow. Ronaldo took the bait, and walked in.

Sitting at what seemed to be impossible, an even smaller chair, Ronaldo looked across the cluttered desk of what was Scale Media headquarters. It didn't feel like a headquarters, it felt like a temp agency.

"Well, hello there Roland, name's Marty. Marty Sharp, founder and CEO of Scale Media," the rigid man grinned, reaching a hand out for Ronaldo to shake, and when he did so, shook it so vigorously, it made Ronaldo's hand hurt a little, "I like your stuff, champ. A lot. You familiar with Scale Media, Rod?"

"Ronaldo," he corrected again, "And no. I haven't heard of your company until you emailed me."

"Well we're responsible for some of the big name shows on television, don't you know! We're responsible for " _Crocodile Tycoon_ " and " _My Wife is a Horse!_ " and " _Sloth Swap!_ ""

"I...don't think I've _ever_ heard of those shows, sir," Ronaldo admitted, keeping his composure. He was intrigued still, but Marty's pitch was on shaky foundation.

"Ah, they're local favorites, trust me. But these shows, _and_ their magic all happen right here," he grinned, gesturing to the 'headquarters'.

"...in this little room?", Ronaldo frowned.

"Eh we had to downsize the place over the last few months, but future productions are gonna be big, I promise you that!"

Ronaldo gave a nod, and cleared his throat, "So I was thinking we could discuss how we would potentially run this show, I have some ideas that I'd like to run with you."

"Sure sure! Whatever it is, it's gonna be the hit comedy of Palm City!"

"Excuse me?", Ronaldo asked, glasses sliding down his nose, " _Comedy_?"

"Uh, yeah!", Marty laughed, "Your stuff is a _riot_."

"My work is _serious business_ , sir," Ronaldo expressed firmly.

Marty stared at him like he was joking, and cackled, "You gotta be kidding me! Snake people? Diamond authority? Wow, what drugs were you on when you wrote that stuff man? You seriously think anyone believes that crock?"

"I have followers," Ronaldo began, "Believers in my theories, I-"

"Buddy, listen," Marty spoke coolly, "Those 'followers' you have only give a darn because they think you're a complete loon who's making stuff up at the drop of a hat. They think you're a _joke_. _I_ think you're a joke. I thought when I read your stuff that _you_ knew you were a joke."

Ronaldo's heart tore at the seams of where it just seemed to be repaired.

"And that's what makes you a _winner_ for TV", Marty grinned, "So chin up, champ. You're gonna be _rich_ when I'm done with you. Let's make a deal."

With a shout of rage and despair, Ronaldo promptly made for the exit, but not before clocking Mr. Sharp square in the face.

* * *

Ronaldo couldn't believe it. This whole time, had _everyone_ really believed he was a joke?

It made sense now that he thought about it. Nobody ever contacted him to actually discuss his theories. If anything the most engaging comments he'd get were about how his blog made someone's day. He thought it was through people relating to and finding agreement with his discoveries...not something to humor them!

Did nobody really take him seriously? Did Sadie take him seriously? Lars? Steven? Peedee?

Growling in frustration as he walked down the street, he gripped at his hair, not even caring if people saw him. Why? They'd probably still laugh at him, like they all had been doing before! Taking a rapid detour into an alleyway, in frustration, he kicked at a garbage can, hard, and it bounced off a building with a resounding crash.

Lars swung the back door of the restaurant open, scowling, "What the fuck?", trying to find the source of disturbance, and looked, seeing his friend, disheveled, standing in the alleyway, "Ronnie?"

Ronaldo just looked at him, "...why aren't you laughing at me?"

"...What?"

"Why aren't you laughing, huh?", he glared at Lars, stamping over to him, " _You_ of all people thought for the longest time my work, my theories, everything I did was a joke! So how come you're not laughing now?"

Lars frowned, "H-hey, man are you ok? Did something happen at that company or-"

"HE SAID I WAS A JOKE!" Ronaldo shouted in his face, making him recoil, "THAT _EVERYONE_ IS LAUGHING AT ME!"

"Woah, that's terrible! Hey, Ronnie-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!", the blogger roared at him, and Lars further backed away while he continued to rant, "Don't _you_ try to play innocent! For half the time we've known each other you did nothing but laugh at my theories, my research, tell me it was crazy talk! You were embarrassed to be around me, you even said so! You threw me away like some old _toy_ you got tired of, picked me up again to play with for a few years, LEFT ME IN BEACH CITY, and then play it like we're _best_ of friends-"

"Ronaldo-" Lars tried to cut in, voice hoarse.

"Like you never laughed at me-"

"Ron, I-"

"While you're living _a la bohemia_ with your _bastard child_ -"

Lars promptly shoved Ronaldo hard, "Don't you DARE bring her into this! She has nothing to do with any of this and you know it!", he snarled, glaring at him furiously.

"Just admit it, you've been laughing at me all these years! You think I'm a joke!," he screamed at Lars, gripping him by his shoulders.

Lars was gripping his shoulders, more in an attempt to shove him off, "I haven't thought of you as a joke in _years!_ ", he snapped, "You know, after a while, the stuff you said was starting to sound like it could be real! What with all the messed up shit we went through together! I started thinking, 'Hey maybe Ronnie's onto something! This guy could be the one who saves us all when the world goes to shit, and he's going to mean a lot to the world, way more than I ever will! I fucked up in throwing away the best friendship I ever had because I was so fuckin' cowardly about what other people thought of me! Maybe if I apologize and try to make things right, he'll take me back and accept me as I am, a complete messup who's probably going to throw himself in front of a truck before he turns 25!' But I guess I was wrong to take you seriously!"

Ronaldo stepped away, trying to make a retort, but all that came out was a snarl. Not of anger. But of deflation...dismay...regret.

"Maybe you really are just a joke! I must have been kidding myself to think it was worth trying to be your friend again! Thinking I actually might have fuckin' LOVED you once!", Lars snarled, and finally shoved him off, "And you stay the fuck away from my daughter, you understand me, you psycho fucker? Go live your shittastic life somewhere else! AWAY FROM ME!", and turned on his heel, going back inside, and slammed the door shut.

Nobody was going to be laughing at Ronaldo now anymore, that was for sure. Not at someone who looked as despondent and broken as he did right then and there.

* * *

While one relationship was crumbling, another was being thought over thoroughly in Sadie's mind, while she lay on her bed, blank document on screen in front of her. She smiled, disconnected from the screen, but deep in thought about her writing. But more prominently, the night before. Lars had kissed her again, for the first time in years, and it was just as much of a spark as the kisses they'd shared years before when they were together.

For the longest time, when she thought of important people in her life, he'd definitely been one of the first to come up in her head. Even when he was gone away. Even when she was almost convinced she wouldn't see him again, that he was done with her, she thought of him. She thought of his smile, his scowls, his sarcastic snickers, his genuine giggles, his tears of sorrow, tears of joy, his birthmarks, scars, his kindness, his cruelty, his wit, his stupidity. She remembered all of it, and would dare not forget one bit of it.

She thought about how handsome he'd gotten in the last few years, his mop of hair becoming longer, more handled with grace and maturity, the tie in the back making it look like the tail of a beautiful fox, how defined his jaw had become, the age in his dark eyes clear, but not enough to overtake the youthful spirit in them. How lovely his tanned skin remained, even with all its scars, stretchlines and differences. She loved his smile still, how he'd grin wide enough for her to see his gums, and how she thought it made him look so kissable.

She was so glad at how kind he'd become in his maturity, even if he carried that same snark deep down, it was far more endearing. She admired how loving he had become, she could see it in his eyes when he talked about his daughter, even when he was complaining, he still loved her fiercely, and would protect her as best he could.

Lars had been able to better himself over the last several years. But he was still Lars deep down.

And Sadie decided she loved him. And wrote such on the screen. The writing started out as a mock column, but then slowly became a chapter, then two, then three, chronicling the different places he'd shown her, the underground, the parks, the waterfronts, the nonsensical rides around the city, his apartment, her time with Ronaldo too, but it all seemed to go back to Lars.

He was what her story needed. His growth, his struggles, his triumph. His life was one she felt she could read about over and over.


	16. Broken Believer

**Another daily update! Be sure to leave a review, favorite, kudos, etc!**

* * *

"I just...I really don't know what to say Ronaldo...just...I'm sorry."

"I know. Me too...", he murmured over the phone to Peedee, "This was a complete waste of my time."

"You met your friends there right?"

"A complete waste."

"...well...look on the bright side..."

Ronaldo's despondent face turned into a bigger frown.

"You can work at the shop with me now...", Peedee had offered with hopefulness in his voice.

"...No," Ronaldo mumbled, "Not even that."

"Wh-what?", Peedee frowned, "But you promised-"

"That was before I knew how everyone thinks I was a joke, Peedee!", he snarled, "Even you! _You_ thought I was a joke, didn't you!"

"Ronaldo, I didn't-"

"You made up all those theories about the diamond authority just so I could be distracted and give you something to be entertained by! Something you could laugh about!"

"I didn't make that up, you did! I just tried to make you happy!"

"I NEVER MADE ANYTHING UP! EVERYTHING I FOUND, MY WORK, IT WAS REAL!", he screamed angrily into the phone, and promptly hung up.

Anger disappearing, he felt nothing to replace it. His phone repeatedly chimed with his brother trying to call him back, he didn't know whether to admit he was wrong, or to tell Ronaldo how pathetic he was for thinking he was worth anything. It didn't matter much anyway. Ronaldo didn't see any reason to pick up the phone again. He didn't feel any reason either.

He felt emptiness.

He was emptiness.

 _He was nothing._

* * *

"Come on man, pick up!", groaned Lars as the dial tone went through for the fifth time. If he was met with another voice message telling him to leave a message (like he had three times already) then he'd chuck his phone out his window. After work, when he'd managed to blow off steam, guilt had settled into his stomach for all the terrible things he'd shouted at Ronaldo. He was still angry about what Ronaldo said to him, but because of the circumstances, he was willing to forgive. Maybe.

Lars gave a small sigh of relief as he heard the phone pick up, "Oh god, Ronaldo, you're there, I wanted to-"

 _-click-_

The dead monotone ringing that followed afterward told Lars very plainly that his friend had hung up on him. Ok maybe he was still mad. He had a pretty awful day it sounded like, so he probably still didn't want to talk to anyone. Ok. Understandable.

After a few hours of working on freelance work, Lars tried again. Ronaldo picked up. Once Lars spoke, he hung up again.

Alright, he still didn't want to talk. Lars could handle that.

He waited another couple of hours, making himself and Ellie dinner, and putting his daughter to bed. The same daughter Ronaldo had insulted, and Lars was still pretty upset about, but willing to forgive if Ronaldo actually took a minute to _stay on the phone and listen to him._

Another call, and another hangup.

Lars was growing frustrated. He called immediately again, and when the phone picked up, he shouted, "Ronaldo, would you just-!"

"Stop," the voice on the other line spoke blankly, and immediately hung up.

When Lars tried calling again, Ronaldo was back to not even picking up the phone.

About a half hour later, Sadie had texted Lars, " _Hey is Ronaldo not picking up his phone for you? He's not answering me._ "

" _Yeah he had a bad meeting and we kind of had a bad fight after that so he doesnt want to talk to anyone i guess"_

 _"Oh no...want me to come over?"_

 _"Sure"_

Lars sighed, looking at the clock. It was 9:00, and probably way too late to invite anyone into the apartment complex, but this whole thing with Ronaldo was going to leave him sleepless no doubt, and he wanted someone to talk about it with.

Sadie arrived about an half hour later, laptop under her arm, and explained, "This whole thing's going to leave me without sleep, so I figured I could do some writing while I'm here."

"Yeah," Lars mumbled, "Make yourself comfy," and sighed, sitting on the couch, "I kinda feel like a jerk. I yelled at him today, and told him to fuck off."

The blonde looked at him, "Why'd you do that?"

"Well uh, I don't know if it was me getting caught up in the screaming or," his throat caught, "-when he called Ellie a bastard child, but uh, I kinda lost it."

Sadie frowned, "Oh...woah, hey that's not cool. I know he was probably in a bad place, but...that's not cool of him to call her that, y'know..."

"Yeah," Lars mumbled, "I'm still kind of steamed."

Sadie rubbed his arm, "I'm sure once he calms down or something, he'll come by and try to apologize. He's pretty forgiving after you give him some time to vent."

"Right," he nodded, and sighed, leaning against her, "So...how's the writing going?"

"It went pretty well last night," she admitted, "I got more done than I thought I would. And uh...I think I have a book idea."

"Really?", he gave a small smile, and sat up, "What's it about?"

"Well I can't say too much for plot ideals yet, but um," she began, "I wrote about you a lot."

He blushed, "Oh, really? Like what?"

"Well, a lot of the stuff we did as kids, and just recently, y'know?", she gave a smile, "I got really into writing about it, and uh...a lot about you too."

"Can I read it?", he asked.

"...I'd feel really embarrassed," she admitted, hiding her face.

"A-Aww, hey, if you don't wanna show me now, you don't have to. Put it on a rain check OK?"

"OK," she smiled, and opened the laptop to start typing anew, but realized, just with the heavy emotions, she didn't exactly feel up to it. She closed the laptop again, and shrugged to Lars, "I might write later."

"Yeah, sounds good," he smiled, and without warning, pulled her into a hug, "I'm really glad you came here, y'know? I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too," she whispered against his shirt, smelling cooking spices and something unnameable she could remember from Beach City, making his scent purely original.

For a while, they didn't want this moment to end, this embrace, this sense of temporary peace.

It all ended when both their phones chimed, and they looked at each other in confusion, then picked the devices up.

They had both received a message from Ronaldo. A message enough to make both their stomachs knot like taut strings.

 _'I want to die.'_


	17. The Artist Did it for Her

**Giving a warning that this chapter contains some pretty heavy discussion regarding suicide and depression, so if that's not your cuppatee, then you can avert your eyes.**

* * *

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck," Lars whispered under his breath, chest tightening like a boa constrictor wrapping around it, reading the message, "He's probably going to kill himself, oh fuck...'', his voice croaked like he was losing breath.

"Wait, I'm going to try calling him," Sadie mumbled quickly, and speed dialed him, and received no answer. Cursing softly, she texted him ' _Ronaldo don't do anything stay right there and we're going to find you and help you ok?'_

Lars was making no other responses other than 'oh fuck', and starting to curl up into a ball, so Sadie continued texting Ronaldo, telling him to sit tight and not to hurt himself or try anything dangerous. She mumbled, "He never told me where he was staying. He never told you, did he?", she asked Lars.

Her friend made no response, just another chorus of 'oh fuck' which became whimpers as his resolve seemed to break, and he looked ready to cry. She reached over and grabbed his arm, "Lars. Did he tell you where he was staying?"

"No," he finally whimpered, and held back a sob. He was starting to mumble things that Sadie couldn't even understand, and when she was about to say she was going to call Peedee, Lars suddenly got up from his seat, and fled the apartment.

"Lars wait!", Sadie called after him, and followed him as quickly as she could, watching him beat feet up to the rooftop stairs. She quickly followed him up, trailing him by several feet.

" _Please please please don't do anything drastic up here,_ " she whispered to herself, and once she made it onto the roof, realized Lars had never shown her this place. It was a lush rooftop garden with moss covered walls, metal grids wrapped in leaves creating a few barriers, and baskets of flowers everywhere. Lars was slumped on a metal bench with cushions, hiding his face and shaking terribly.

Slowly, not wanting to scare him, Sadie sat down beside him, and gently lay an arm around his shaking body, "Hey," she whispered.

When he didn't respond, she decided to call Steven, who picked up, "Hello?"

"Steven, hi. Are you near Palm City?"

"Uh, I'm about five miles from it...Connie and I were-"

"Oh god thank you," she breathed, cutting his sentence, "Can you please _please_ find Ronaldo for us? You're able to find us pretty quickly with your gem magic or whatever right?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Ronaldo sent us really cryptic messages, and uh...we're really worried about him, can you look for him and see if he's alright?"

"Oh man...yeah, I can do that, I'll look for him right now. I'll call Garnet and see if she can figure out where he'd probably be," he spoke quickly, "You guys sit tight, OK?"

"Will do, thanks," she spoke softly, and hung up. She looked at Lars, "Hey. Lars."

He made no answer.

"Steven's gonna find Ronaldo, and he'll make sure he's alright...OK?"

Lars began to rock on his feet, in the midst of a break down.

"...Lars?"

He finally choked out a sob, "I tried to kill myself here."

" _What?_ ", she whispered in shock, face going pale, "When?"

"L-like a year ago. Year and a half maybe," he croaked, tears running down his face, "I was just...so ready to give up," he cried, "So lonely...I just wanted it all to be over so I could feel something besides being angry and hurt all the time."

Sadie gripped his hand, and he held it like a lifeline as he continued, "I th...I thought...I could just jump off of the roof, and it would all be over, and I wouldn't have any time to feel bad about it," he sobbed, "That it would be over in an instant, and I could just die," he cried, "But I put my foot over, and then I just froze up," he whimpered, "I'd put Ellie to bed, and I realized I'd have to be there when she woke up so she could eat something," he rubbed at his eyes, "She could recognize me then," he cried, looking at Sadie, tears running down his cheeks, "She called me _daddy_ ," he choked, "I was the only person she had. She was going to remember me the most of all people, and I was going to die before she could ever know anyone else," he cried, "I just thought about her, and I couldn't do it! I just went back downstairs and went to bed and tried to pretend it was all a dream".

He continued to sob, and tearfully spoke again, "I thought about you too. How you never gave up on me. That you were so proud of me for making it over here...you didn't ever give up on me. Even when I tried to give up years ago," he whimpered, still looking at her.

Eyes filling with tears, Sadie looked at her lifelong friend, and hugged him tightly, "Oh Lars," she cried, burying his head against her shoulder.

"I think about it every day. Just giving up," he cried, "And I feel horrible that I think about it. Even with all the medication. Even with everything going for me, I think about it," he cried, "And how I almost want to, but I _can't_ ," he cried, "I've got people _counting on me_ , I've got things to _do_."

"God, Lars," she cried," I'm so sorry about this," and rocked him against her body, "You're so strong Lars, you know that, right? So strong."

He sobbed against her shoulder, and whimpered, "If anything happens to Ronnie, it's gonna be all my fault. I can't live with it if he dies, Sadie! I can't!"

"Lars, no no, don't think that," she whispered, rubbing away at her own tears, "Everything is gonna be OK. It's not your fault. Ronaldo needs help, and we're going to get him help as soon as we can reach him. Everything is going to be alright. Say it with me, OK? Everything is going to be alright."

"E-Everything..."

"Come on."

"Everything is going to be alright," he croaked, words still caught in his throat like he wasn't believing them. Sadie sighed, and just continued gripping onto him, hugging him tight.

"You're so loved Lars. So loved," she whimpered, gently rubbing his chest and back with her hands while he sniffled and hiccuped against her, eventually calming into a tense silence, where she then switched to petting his hair.

After a long silence of holding onto each other, and looking around at the rooftop garden, Sadie's phone rang, and she hastily picked it up, seeing it was Steven.

"Yes?", she asked, almost panicked.

"Sadie, Ronaldo is gonna be fine," Steven assured her calmly, "I found him, and he's just uh...really drunk right now. He got into his hotel minibar, and Peedee's no doubt gonna be mad because those little bottles are super expensive, but um yeah, he's just really drunk, and he's going to be OK. He's not going to try to kill himself, he said so, he's just really out of it. I'm going to stay with him so he has a hangover buddy, but right now, he's just sleeping, so I'll call you in the morning and let you know when he's up and slightly sober alright? I'll see if I can get him to talk stuff out with you guys."

"Ok," she mumbled, "Thanks Steven," and sighed in relief as she hung up, gently hugging Lars, "Ronaldo just binged on his minibar. He's going to be fine."

"H-He's not gonna kill himself?", Lars whimpered.

"No no no," she whispered, "He's just really really drunk, and Steven's gonna be-" she stopped to giggle just to lighten the mood, "-His hangover buddy."

"O-oh," Lars stuttered, and gave a watery smile of relief, and a small laugh, "God, I was so scared," he whispered, wiping at his face.

"I know...I was too."


	18. The Writer Loves the Artist

**Because of some sexual content from this chapter, this story will be rated M!**

* * *

"I'm glad Steven found him," Sadie mumbled, rubbing Lars' hair, "At least he's not going to be alone and drunk all night."

"Yeah", Lars mumbled, "I was...really scared, y'know?"

"I know," she mumbled, hand resting on the back of his head, fingers gently threading into his hair, "Y'know...if you ever feel like...you're going to do...something like that again, you can talk to me, right?"

"Right," he whispered, and sat up a little so he could scoot closer to her, and rest against her on the bench, head against her chest, "I...feel OK now, y'know. But...yeah..."

She kissed his head, "I care about you so much, Lars...so much."

"I know," he murmured against her shoulder, "I...really care about you too," and hugged her tight around the middle, glad she was so fun to squeeze there still. She gave a small giggle at the hug, and looked around.

"So...tell me about this roof. Where'd the garden come from?", she spoke softly, her free hand threading with the fingers on one of his.

"Eh? I don't know," he admitted, "It's always kinda been here. I think some of the tenants here grow their own plants and stuff, but it's free to use by anyone really. I come up here to paint when the weather is nice," he shrugged. He snuggled against her further, finding the weather to be more than a little cold, "A lot of the plants die when it gets to wintertime, but all the patio stuff out here keeps pretty well, so it's all purpose."

"Well that's good," she smiled, and looked out over the city, "This is...a really good view," she smiled, "You don't even see the smog or factories on the other side."

"I know right?", he cracked a tiny grin, "You can see all the old buildings and hills from here...But I bet there's better views in bigger places. I kinda wanna move to a bigger place, y'know?"

"Yeah,"she smiled, "Your place is pretty small even for two people." _Or three._

"I've been saving up lots of money for stuff," Lars admitted, "Like a new car of my own, or to open my own restaurant, or a bigger place," he admitted, "Of all three of those, I kinda wanna do the restaurant most."

"What would you serve?"

"Anything," he shrugged, "I can cook most anything. Maybe I'd switch a menu every week. Chinese one week, Italian the next, Indian another," he smiled, gently tweaking her ear.

"I could be your cute hostess," she teased.

"Yeah, and flirt with my customers," he laughed softly, looking out at the city, the lights illuminating in the dark like stars.

After some more idle chatter and soft words of affection, Sadie admitted she was cold.

"The weather gets kinda like this at night," Lars admitted, "...want to go back inside?"

"Yeah," she spoke against his shoulder, smiling against his cheek.

* * *

Once they were back downstairs, neither of them could quite remember who started it, but soon kisses had distracted from any further long term conversation, and they made themselves quite comfortable on the couch, pressed against each other. Without much question, soon nothing was said as they did nothing but kiss, cuddle, and let their hands roam.

God, Lars had missed this. He'd missed her. This closeness, this tenderness. He remembered when they'd shared it once, maybe twice as awkward, inexperienced teenagers, but now that they were grown up, it was probably going to be less of inexperience, and more of communication and knowing what the other wanted.

He wanted her so badly. Sadie could tell as soon as his kisses turned more greedy, and his hands began to gently pull and squeeze at her, one hand sliding underneath her shirt. She paused, asking herself if she wanted this, if it was ok. She did, she wanted it. She sank into his touches, returning his kisses with equal desire.

"I really missed you," he breathed in between two kisses, and began to run a hand through her hair, letting his hand eventually rest on the back of her head, to lift her up a little.

He smirked when her arm looped around his torso, and she grinned against his mouth, "I missed you too."

"God you still look good," he crooned against her ear, letting his body drop onto hers, one of his hands resting on the couch cushions, right over her hair, and he kissed along the side of her face, "Real good," he grinned.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she gave a soft snicker, her hand feeling up his torso, over his shirt. His body seemed to meet up with its spindly frame, and his boney ribs felt more smooth under her fingers. That was kind of too bad, she always had fun counting his ribs when they were younger, even when it irritated him.

Hearing a soft gasp when he nipped her neck, he took that as a sign to keep going, but went slack and confused when he felt her squirm and push his chest up. Lifting himself up with his arms, he looked down at her, and asked softly, "Want to stop?"

"N-No," she mumbled, and looked around face flushed, "I just don't want...uh...anyone coming in and-"

"Right, right," he mumbled, and gently rubbed her arms, "Want to move this to uh...my room? Probably is a lot comfier than this ol' couch."

"Yeah," she nodded, face bright red, and squirmed out from underneath him, and they both quickly rushed for his room before the young child sound asleep in the other room could hear them. Lars was careful to lock his door behind them, hearing horror stories of children walking in on their parents' activities.

Once they were on the bed, their lips were crashing together, and everything became more of a blur, bodies rutting together, and hands pulling at clothing.

It had been too long for the both of them, it wasn't like Lars had time for girlfriends, and Sadie's relationships never really worked out. With everything stressful and horrible that had happened that day, they both needed to release tension, badly.

The small gasps she made when he let his hands roam across her exposed torso were enough to get him excited, and within seconds, he was sliding her bra off over her head, kissing both her breasts and leaving small marks on both of them. _God she was perfect._ He slid his hand into her panties carefully, and when she didn't protest, he began to rub at her slowly, smirking as she soon gave small gasps, and whimpered his name once into his ear.

He cursed against her chest when her hands reached down to his pants, undoing the front, and a hand crept between the fabric of his jeans and his boxers, rubbing slowly but obviously knowing what would make him utter delicious noises. Within less than a minute, all of their clothing was shed to the floor.

Lars had muttered they'd have to be careful, both with the noise and their activities. The walls were thin in the apartment, so any noises they made would have to be below a whisper.

"You've got condoms or something, right? I don't think you want anymore kids. _I_ don't want any kids now", Sadie mumbled with a laugh as she worked him to full hardness, her hands way more skilled than he remembered from before.

"Yeah, I don't think they're expired or anything. God...get your hands off my junk a sec, lemme grab one." he breathed, and rolled onto his side, reaching into his nightstand drawer and after some fumbling, pulled out a foil packet, unwrapping it, and giving an apologetic look, pulled away to prepare himself.

After several minutes of continuous kissing, hands grasping at each other, and grinding, they decided it was enough, and he carefully positioned himself and slid into her, keeping everything slow.

The slow carefulness soon went out the window as within a matter of several seconds, it was nothing but grinding bodies thrusting against each other, muffling the sounds they made against each other, kisses becoming sloppy, and words turning into incoherent gasps and curses of each other's name.

"S-Sadie, _fuck_ ," Lars breathed as he pounded his hips against hers, feeling her squirm delightfully underneath him, bucking up violently and her tiny nails digging into his back, most certainly leaving marks that would last in the morning.

"Don't stop, Lars," she panted against his neck, leaving small harmless bites, her arms gripped around his torso as tightly as she could. Her legs occasionally twitched, and she let out the most lovely soft, shrill noises Lars had heard, and had there been no problem with trying to keep things down, he would have begged her to do it louder.

By the time he reached climax,he was mumbling her name like a prayer, and gasped, shuddering violently as the inner tension released like a snapped coil, thrusting it out then slowed to a stop. She continued grinding up against him for a few seconds until she gasped, muffling a choked cry against his neck, her muscles tightening around him in spasms, and they both relaxed into a tired, panting mass of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies.

"Fuck...wow, uh..." Lars began after a minute of being unable to speak, "That was-"

"That was good," Sadie breathed, nuzzling her face against his neck, her tangled hair resting over her cheek.

"Yeah," he agreed, giving an exhausted, satisfied look, "Good."

"We'll talk more later," she mumbled, "I'm beat."

"OK," he agreed, in a daze.

That was OK.

* * *

When the late morning sun filtered in, both Lars and Sadie were still asleep, dozing comfortably in each other's arms, completely exposed under the blankets.

Lars only woke when he heard a soft whimper from behind his door, "Dad? Are you sleeping?"

 _Oh shit._

Lars quickly and quietly had to wake Sadie, who panicked, and whispered instructions to grab her clothes. He cheerfully called out to the door that he was indeed awake, and that he would be out in just a minute, as he fumbled to get his clothes on. He then hissed to Sadie to hide in the closet and come out when he had Ellie out of the hallway.

"Why were you asleep so long?", Ellie asked her father as he carried her to the kitchen.

"Dad had a very long night," he explained, and he set her in her chair, quickly grabbing fixings for breakfast. Anything to get her distracted so he could shower, and not have to explain something very long and uncomfortable to Ellie.

Sadie had taken this time to take her own shower, having snuck into the bathroom. She and Lars passed in the hallway and she whispered, "If Ellie asks, I just got here."

"Cool," he whispered back and was able to clean himself off, nice and fresh. When he arrived back into the kitchen, he was relieved to see Ellie chattering innocently with Sadie, who had helped herself to the fruit and cereal Lars had set out. He promptly joined them, every so often looking at Sadie, and blushing.

Sadie's phone chimed later after breakfast, and she picked up.

"Hi Sadie," Steven spoke, sounding hopeful, "Ronaldo's OK this morning. He was really smashed, and he's still kind of hunched over his toilet puking, but he's ok..."

"Oh good," she sighed.

"He's uh...he said he's ready to talk to you guys now...he's a little upset though, I'll just give you warning."

"OK," she nodded, "Should we come by in an hour?"

"Yeah, that should work," he smiled, "I've got the address right here..."

Sadie was so relieved Steven gave her the location where Ronaldo was staying, especially since he'd refused this whole time to give it up.

Once the call was over, she looked to Lars, who had just set Ellie down from her chair, "We're going to go see Ronaldo in an hour."

He visibly grew uncomfortable, "Ah...uh...OK...", he mumbled, "I don't think he's gonna want to see me..."

"It's gonna be alright," she promised, "You've got me."

"...yeah," he smiled softly, "I do."


	19. Restoring Belief

"Steven remind me to swear off all alcohol forever," Ronaldo groaned as the younger man got up to answer the door. With his headache and burning throat, Ronaldo hadn't even heard the knock.

"I'll remember," Steven assured as he opened the door, "Hi Lars, Sadie, thanks for coming by."

"Yeah," Sadie smiled awkwardly, holding Lars' hand, and they both walked in.

Lars wrinkled his nose at the horrible smell, "Ick, this hangover must be pretty bad."

"Oh, be glad you didn't see the worst," Steven mumbled, "He's a barfzooka, I swear."

"Steeeeven, stop all the noise, it hurts," Ronaldo whined pathetically as he crawled back into bed, looking like a complete mess. His curls were all undone, looking like messy locks of hair cascading down his face, and he couldn't really see much without his glasses, which were on top of his head, forgotten. He jammed his face into his pillow to resist the urge to vomit again. He'd downed all the contents of the minibar in less than fifteen minutes, and had been regretting it. In the middle of his drunken stupor, he'd texted both Sadie and Lars that he'd wanted to die, knowing they probably hated him now, and that this huge mistake to drink so much so fast was definitely going to kill him.

"Does he like, need tea or anything?", Lars offered, peering over and seeing his hungover friend.

"I think he just needs to sit the rest of it out," Steven mumbled, "He's probably ready to talk to you now, though."

Ronaldo had finally glanced over to the door and saw his two friends, albeit very blurry. He locked eyes with Lars, and the two glanced away in shame. Both of them were too nervous to speak up first, and express their mistakes.

Sadie decided to shove Lars over closer to the bed Ronaldo was sprawled on, and Lars gave a weak, awkward smile, "You look like shit."

"So do you," Ronaldo mumbled, giving a weak smile in return.

Lars' smile faltered, and his eyes filled with tears, "I'm...really _really_ sorry for what I said to you."

"I would have said the same thing," the other mumbled, looking ashamed, "I'm sorry I insulted you."

"...well I'm more upset about the whole 'bastard child' thing."

"That too...I'm even more sorry for that...", Ronaldo spoke quietly, tears starting to leak.

Sadie had slowly moved over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, and nudged Lars, to have him sit with her.

"Hey, Ron...it's ok. The other day was just shit luck for both of you...", she began.

"My work's a joke," he mumbled.

Lars and Sadie looked at each other, then him, "Hey, no, it's not," Sadie frowned, gently rubbing his arm.

"That company was shit," Lars muttered, "You're better than them, man."

"Nobody ever believed in my theories really," he sighed, "Even you two."

"Hey, who was the one who helped you film that freaky chase in the woods from that walking tree thing we saw?", Lars murmured.

"You."

"And who was the one who helped you set up that trap for that demon in the attic?", Sadie added.

"You," Ronaldo looked at her, sitting up.

"And who went ghost hunting with you five times in a row? Overnight?"

"Both of you?"

"So why do you think we'd think it was a joke if we did all that stuff with you?", Sadie smiled.

"Yeah. I mean, look at me, Ron. Do you think if _I_ thought this was all a joke, I'd have done all of that?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.

Lars gently punched his arm, "I wouldn't have, dummy. You know I don't participate unless I think it's worth my time. And I for sure thought that was pretty damn well worth it."

Ronaldo sighed, "Well, besides you two," he muttered.

"Hey, I'm all for your theories!", Steven chimed in from the door as he was about to head out.

"...ok that's three."

"...Peedee," Sadie shrugged, "He might not have believed in them, but I don't think he ever thought they were a joke. He just wanted to make sure you were happy."

"There's probably lots of people out there, Ron," Lars mumbled, "You just haven't ever met 'em, y'know?"

Ronaldo was quiet for a while.

"...I don't think my medicine is working," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't feel like it's stopping anything," Ronaldo sighed.

Lars flopped onto the bed backwards, draping himself over Ronaldo's legs, "Stuff for mental things doesn't really 'cure' your problems man. It just helps you function. It makes you feel better on good days, but on bad days it might not as much, " he sighed, giving a shrug, "It's just how it works..."

"Yeah," Sadie mumbled, "I mean, seeing you for the last few months or so, you've seemed to have a fair share of good and bad days."

"I...guess," Ronaldo murmured, "I still don't even understand most of this."

Lars sighed, "I've been there...and truthfully...I'm still there," he shrugged, holding out a fist for a 'wow-we're-both-mentally-ill-bring-it-in-bradda' fist bump which Ronaldo returned half-hearted, "It's not easy to live with, but eventually, you learn how to live with it, and then it's not as bad...", he then sat up and scooted so he was sitting right on top of Ronaldo's gut, "And if you need to talk or whatever, you got me, y'know."

"And me," Sadie mumbled, "Even if I don't understand it as much."

Ronaldo was trying to show how grateful he was, but he was also trying not to projectile vomit all over his friends, since Lars was sitting right on top of his stomach, so he suddenly and violently shoved Lars off of him, and rushed to the toilet, hurling again.

"Jeez," Lars muttered, face flushed as he lay sprawled on the floor.

"Thank you guys. Appreciate it," Ronaldo mumbled from the toilet bowl.

* * *

After three hours of being hangover buddies for Ronaldo, the three ended up traveling to Lars' apartment for the rest of the day.

"-I should have known not to trust a guy named Marty," Ronaldo had concluded his story of how horrible the company headquarters was, deciding the parts regarding its crappy 'downsizing' were a little bit funny.

"Marty?", Lars laughed, "What was his last name?"

"Marty Sharp."

Lars wheezed, "O-Oh my god. You dodged a fuckin' bullet man!"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh god, if you've ever talked to Vidalia, she'll tell you about Marty Sharp. Complete loser and sleazebag. He's been going through failed business after failed business, and he always comes slinkin' around Beach City for new 'clients'," he laughed, "So don't even take his words to heart. He's a loser!"

"Huh," Ronaldo sat back in his seat, looking at his tea. The idea that he almost got swindled wasn't that cool, but hearing about how much of a loser that CEO was...well that was pretty entertaining.

"Hey man, when you get a media offer again, one that you want, you lemme know," Lars grinned, "I'll help promote you."

"I'll write your scripts," Sadie chimed in, laughing.

"I thought I could just have Lars be latte boy, and you could be my defense squad, Sadie," Ronaldo teased, sipping his tea.

"I know what we can do," Lars teased, "When I have enough to open a restaurant, I'll get it in a haunted house. That way people can dine and hunt ghosts while you guide them," he grinned to Ronaldo.

Ronaldo snorted, "Or I get a job hunting ghosts in this city, and recreate Mystery Inc. I'll be Fred, you be the stoner guy-"

"Shaggy?"

"Yeah, him, and Sadie is Velma."

"I just thought Lars could be the dog," Sadie smiled, which made them all crack up.

"Ha. Ha," Lars laughed sarcastically, and sipped his tea, "One thing that I did see while on a trip up north to Portland a while back was a restaurant combined with a bookstore, so you could eat and read at the same time."

"There's coffee shops like that here, I saw them," Sadie shrugged.

"I'm talkin' about a full-on restaurant," Lars explained, "With shelves all along the walls...people grab a book, they read it at the table while they eat-"

"Coffee shop," Sadie and Ronaldo both interrupted in unison. Lars' idea needed some refreshing.

"Ok, but what if it was two stories?", he grinned.

"Two different businesses," Sadie shrugged, laughing.

"Oh jeez come on guys, humor me here," he laughed, "Just think, Sadie, your book, when you have it published, it will be on the shelves of my restaurant while people eat my food-"

"What about me?", Ronaldo smiled.

Lars grinned, "You, my friend, are going to make daily reports of weirdness that we will distribute to our customers, and keep them informed of the truth of Palm City."

The blogger gave a laugh, then frowned, thinking of Beach City, "Right...", Ronaldo mumbled, and sighed, "Jeez, I was an ass to Peedee. I don't think he's going to want to talk to me for a while."

"Egh, what happened?" Sadie looked over, giving a wince.

"Well before this whole disaster...I kind of promised that if I didn't go through with anything with Scale Media, I'd go back to Beach City, and help him with the shop. But I kinda don't want to do that anymore, and Peedee's getting lonely at the shop, and he doesn't know what to do with his life if the shop closes, because he lived all of his life there, and it's all he's known, but he doesn't even like it much anymore, so it's just...a huge mess..."

"Maybe you should call him," Sadie offered.

"Mmf...maybe later. He's probably working right now. Also I don't want to go into detail about the whole minibar fiasco."

"Hey, when you do call him, we can sit by and offer suggestions," Lars shrugged, and refilled his tea, "Also, if it's of any help, he can do what I did with Steven and do that whole moss transport thing every year."

"I'll try to...remember whatever that is...", he muttered, then sighed, "I'm not even sure about if I'm going to stay in Beach City, or come over here. I mean, my blog is Keep Beach City Weird, but if everyone who is really into it isn't even in Beach City, and there's more weirdness in the world beyond the city...then well, what's the point?"

"Me either," Sadie admitted, "I love Beach City but...I just _really_ like it here," she smiled, glancing at Lars, blushing a bit.

Lars blushed right back at the two, and gave a shrug, "Well...if you guys go back to Beach City, just know I'm a phone call away, a'ight? You're always welcome to stay with me when ya visit."

"Of course," Sadie smiled.

"...I feel really bad that I never tried to reconnect with you guys after I moved here...", the redhead admitted softly.

"Hey, it's ok," Sadie shrugged.

"No, no it isn't," he frowned, "I got really nervous about reconnecting with the city, because I didn't want to think about well...all the mistakes and shitty things I did there. I kinda just wanted to keep my life here. Then Steven connected with me again, and I guess that just set off this whole chain of events," he snorted.

"Well at least we've found you now, and you're...relatively happy," Ronaldo pat his friend's head, and Lars snorted, sticking his tongue out, "And if you ever decide to visit Beach City, you can sleep in the lighthouse basement. It's relatively monster free," he teased.

"...so back to my book restaurant-"

"Coffee shop," they repeated.

"GUYS, PLEASE."


	20. The Believer and his Brother

**About four more chapters left after this! Hope you're all enjoying this story! Hope you read and review/kudos/share!**

* * *

Peedee had been in an especially crabby mood working at the shop, and once he'd closed up, he'd retreated home, and crashed onto his couch, frustrated. He was still pretty upset about Ronaldo shouting at him and hanging up on him so suddenly, and refusing to pick up his phone for the rest of the night. He had to think about it all during work, and when he got home, he was not only irritated, but also worrisome. What if something ended up happening to his brother?

When his phone rang with a number he didn't even recognize later that evening, he was wondering if it was someone bearing bad news about Ronaldo. He drew in a nervous breath as he picked up, "Hello?"

"Hi Peedee," Ronaldo mumbled on the other line.

"Ronaldo? What number is this?"

"I'm using Lars' phone," he admitted, "My phone's dead."

"Oh."

"...er...listen, about yesterday, I was-"

"Kind of a jerk," Peedee muttered.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "And in a really bad place. I'm really sorry. I know you don't think I'm a joke... I'm also really sorry because you're probably going to get a bill from the hotel regarding the minibar in a few days because of me, but forget about that a minute," he sighed, "I...I know I promised I was going to help you at the shop but I-"

"I know you don't want to. I'm not going to ask you to do that," Peedee cut in.

Before Ronaldo could make any response to assure his brother that it wasn't something he was unwilling to do, Peedee continued, "Like I said a few days ago...I think the shop, the whole business, it was Dad's thing. And I think Dad would want us to be happy with, well, whatever we decided to do, whether it be continuing the business, archiving the paranormal, or ...whatever else we thought of doing."

"So...what are you getting at?", Ronaldo muttered.

"I don't want your help with the business. I'm just going to run it through the lease-"

"You're closing the shop?"

"Not necessarily, I might pass the business to someone else...it's just...I don't think I enjoy it anymore, Ronaldo," Peedee sighed, "I mean, look at me. I'm 22, I didn't get through college-"

"Neither did I-"

"But that's something I kind of wanted to do! I want to _try_ different things I guess. Step outside my comfort zone. I've got enough money to travel outside the country if I wanted to. I need to figure out what to do with my life, because I just don't think it's set to be with the fry shop anymore."

Ronaldo was a little speechless, and surprised at his brother's decision, but he understood. Ever since their father died, Peedee didn't have someone he could relate with in regards to his choice of living. Ronaldo was always so busy with his own interests, he didn't have time for that business, and after a while, he didn't have time for his brother.

"Well, I guess that's how it is," the elder brother shrugged, giving a small smile, "Let me know about all the crazy stuff you do, ok?"

"Alright."

"I'll see you back in Beach City I guess."

"Sure."

"Let me know when you finally get a girlfriend," Ronaldo teased gently, knowing how awkward his brother was about people outside of business.

"Oh, uh, about that, weird thing to bring up so suddenly, but I've been thinking stuff out and I think I'm uh...well, I'm gay," Peedee responded awkwardly with a laugh.

"...OK. Boyfriend then," Ronaldo shrugged.

"Really? You're not surprised?"

"You didn't seem too shocked when I dated Lars. And then Florence."

"...true," he snickered, "So...you're ok now? Even with that whole disaster?"

"...Yeah. I'll be OK," Ronaldo mumbled. This whole thing, handling his inner demons, his problems, it was going to be a long tiresome battle that was going to be painful sometimes, but he was going to try and be positive.

"OK...you're still taking your medicine?"

"Yeah. Still taking it," he sighed, "Don't worry."

"...OK...", Peedee mumbled, "Well...talk to you later?"

"Yeah. Love you lil' bro."

"Love you too, Big Tater," Peedee responded with a good natured smirk, "Bye," and hung up.

Ronaldo gave a small sigh of relief as he put the phone down, and handed it to Lars, who glanced over, "So...? All's good?"

"Yeah. All's good. He's thinking of closing the shop."

Lars jolted in place, "Really? And you're not freaking out?"

"Nah. He's trying to figure out what he wants to do in life, and our dad was kind of the one who made the business what it was, so it's kind of bittersweet. Sad because that shop was family, but happy because my little brother's going to find out how he wants to live his life."

"You worried?", Lars mumbled.

"Not really. Peedee's tough," Ronaldo shrugged, and reached for one of the little spike ball treats he'd seen earlier in the kitchen, and pulled out a pretzel stick, fidgeting boredly. Lars had told him the whole story behind them, and he was still quite amused, "So why don't you just get an aquarium for an urchin? They're easy to take care of."

"Because then I'd have to back out on the whole lobster story," he muttered, "That was a winner. Anyway, this place doesn't allow for aquariums that big."

"Well if you moved into a new place that was bigger and allowed pets, maybe you would?"

"...eh, maybe," Lars shrugged, then laughed softly, "Now I'm just thinking of all the pets I owned back in Beach City."

"You mean your snake? And that possum? And your dogs? And the cat?"

"Yeah," Lars laughed, "Damn, I miss them all."

"I bet," Ronaldo muttered, "I miss _my_ pet."

"You never had a pet," Lars looked over.

"Yes I did, my pet potato; Potato."

Snorting, Lars turned back to the sink, continuing to wash the dishes from lunch, "You goofball."

Sadie was walking back into the kitchen, a few messy pigtails placed improperly in her hair, which was a tangled mess. She was trying not to laugh as Ellie walked in behind her, announcing proudly, "I made her pretty."

"Wow, what royalty," Lars grinned, smirking to Sadie and trying not to laugh. Ronaldo was covering his mouth, holding back snickers.

"Thank you, Ellie," Sadie squeaked out, still trying to keep composed.

Lars picked up the girl, and set her on the counter, "Hey Turtle, wanna help me with these dishes?", and gave her her own little towel, and one of the less fragile items, a plastic bowl.

While she scrubbed away, Lars glanced outside, "Hey, it looks pretty warm out...you guys wanna head out to the roof?"

"Emergency roof party?", Ronaldo suggested.

"What kind of party?", Sadie smirked.

"What would we be celebrating?", Lars added.

"Um, Sadie's beautiful hair obviously," Ronaldo smiled smugly, and got up, "Let's ferry snacks and drinks up to the roof, I'll provide K-jazz on my speakers, and we are set for hours of entertainment."

Lars snickered, "Sure man. Sounds cool with me," and lifted Ellie off the counter, putting the clean dishes away, and had to fight with Ellie to have her put the dish towel down.

Each of them carrying a bag of snacks up, and Lars carrying up a few bottles of soda as well (keeping aware of Sadie's aversion to alcohol), Ronaldo set up his speakers with music, and declared their emergency rooftop party in action.

It really wasn't much of a party, more like they made themselves comfy on the patio furniture, and munched on snacks while they continued their conversation from the kitchen, watching as the late afternoon sky turned orange.

Lars sat between both Sadie and Ronaldo, with Ellie opting to sit _under_ his chair, small enough to squeeze in the space. She didn't seem to interested in the conversation, and instead kept paying attention to the music playing, and frowned, "This sounds bad."

Ronaldo gave a look of horror, "Korean Jazz? Bad?"

"She speaks the truth, Ronnie," Lars teased, patting his shoulder.

"I'm in disbelief!", he gasped, grasping at his chest as if it were a mortal blow. This child must be set straight! He would have to expose her to this music more often!

He turned to Lars, "What _have_ you been listening to with her then?"

"Want to tell him, Ellie?" Lars grinned smugly.

The small child looked at Ronaldo, and chirped innocently, "Metallica."

" _WHAAAAAT_?", Ronaldo gasped, voice squeaking in his throat as he looked at her, then turned to face Lars again, who looked like the most proud parent ever.

"Hey, what can I say? I weaned her on rock," he grinned smugly again, and kicked back in his chair, "Played _Master of Puppets_ ' intro on speakers three minutes after she was born. Had to make the right impression, y'know?", he smirked.

Sadie and Ronaldo had no idea if he was serious or not, and figured it was best not to question it.

About an hour into their little 'party', none of them had yet noticed the darker clouds rolling in, and it was only when Sadie felt a raindrop on her face that they realized this party was going to be ending very soon.

Within thirty seconds, they were rushing to get all of their things out of the quickly rising downpour, and scurrying for the door to the stairs, screeching and laughing. Lars had lifted his daughter like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, and she protested to being taken inside.

"Bà ba! It's warm rain, I want to play in it!"

"No, you'll make yourself sick, baby," he spoke quickly as they all rushed down the stairs to get their slightly damp selves back into his apartment.

"Gosh, it's really raining cats and dogs," Sadie muttered as they heard the rain pelting the roof as they descended the stairs to Lars' floor, and got inside his apartment. Ronaldo was wringing out his curls, getting the water out of them, and Lars kicked off his wet sneakers as he dumped their snacks and soda bottles in the kitchen while he rushed to grab towels to dry off with.

Ellie was still complaining, wanting to play outside, and Lars firmly told her no, which made her pout and stomp her feet, and she sulked in the hallway while he brought the towels out to his friends, and they all dried off. Lars took this opportunity to pull fresh warm towels out of the dryer with the rest of the clean laundry and set it in the basket, and put the wet towels that were discarded in the machine in their place.

"Now what?", Ronaldo asked, hair securely wrapped in a towel, which made Sadie giggle a little.

Lars shrugged, "Well, looks like you guys are stuck in here for a while...", and glanced around, seeing unused paints on his work desk, and recycled canvases that he had gessoed over, "...you guys want to turn this into a painting party?", he smirked, and they both smirked back.

With all the paint placed on a group palette, they each grabbed a canvas and got to work. Lars was the only one who was really seeming to take his painting super seriously, making his strokes slow and deliberate, and having a clear goal in mind for what he wanted it to look like. Sadie was content to paint cute little faces and shapes on the canvas, occasionally painting over them so she could make more. Ronaldo was going back to being an immature teenage boy, and painted penises on his canvas. And Sadie's canvas. And Lars' canvas.

Sadie drew a cute face on the penis.

Lars didn't take too kindly to a penis being drawn on his cityscape, and painted a better penis on Ronaldo's canvas. Sadie drew a face on that one too.

Paint got on the carpet. Lars had to pause to clean it. And then he painted a penis on Sadie's canvas. He called it his new signature. All three burst into laughter.

When they were all out of paint, Lars grinned at the canvases.

"Don't tell me you're going to hang them," Sadie snickered.

"Oh hell no," he laughed, "If Ellie saw these-", he frowned in realization, "Uh...hey, did you guys see if Ellie went to her room or anything? I don't think I saw her in here since we got inside."

Both Sadie and Ronaldo shook their heads, and Lars called out, "Ellie?", and hearing no response or sign of his daughter coming to him within seconds, he walked into her room.

Her bed was empty, and Lars immediately felt a sense of panic.

" _Guys, I can't find Ellie!_ "


	21. Lim Ning, Liang Ju, and Maura

"Guys, I can't find Ellie!"

"What? Are you sure?", Sadie frowned, walking into the hallway.

"She's not in her room, and she's not answering me," Lars frowned, looking more than a little worried.

"Did you check under the couches?", Ronaldo asked, walking in, hearing the dilemma.

"She wouldn't hide under the couches. Ellie doesn't ever hide _anywhere_ ," he mumbled, rubbing his head in thought, then his arms went slack, "Oh shit. Oh shit..."

"What?", Sadie looked at him worriedly.

"She wanted to play in the rain, and I said no!", Lars panicked, "She must have gone outside! She's probably been out there for hours!"

"I'll check the roof!", Sadie assured, grabbing her coat, "And the stairwells!"

"I'll check the hallways," Ronaldo mumbled, and went out of the apartment with Sadie.

Lars was pacing around his living room in thought, thinking of other places she would have desired to play outside. The roof, the stairwells...the fire escape that Lars had told her _never ever_ to go onto without him, no matter how much she whined and begged, _no it was too dangerous, she could fall through the balcony and crack her head wide_ _open..._

Swinging the door open, Lars climbed onto the fire escape, calling out for his daughter. Hearing nothing but the roar of the rain, he was almost afraid to look down and see her crumpled on the ground. For a panicked moment, he almost imagined it, but was hardly relieved to see nothing there. If she wasn't here, then where was she?

" _For fuck's sake Ellie, why'd this have to be now!_ ", he growled to himself, grabbing at his hair in frustration, not caring that he was getting wet, and not wearing a coat.

He'd always been hearing horror stories about missing kids, but he never thought this would happen to him, not in millions of years. He thought Ellie was too smart to go missing like that. But now all he could think of was her soaked, lost, terrified, hurt, or even motionless.

He'd have to put his faith into his friends' attempts to search, and hope, maybe, just maybe, they'd find her.

Right as he got back inside, Ronaldo came back in, "Not in the hallways. Security didn't see her either."

"Oh god," Lars mumbled, "Please tell me Sadie's gonna find her-"

Sadie came in, soaking wet, looking disappointed and worried, "I didn't see her on the roof or the stairwells." _Or on the ground, thank god._

Lars stared at them both, and his legs gave way, and he fell onto his couch, wet and terrified. "Oh fuck," he breathed, holding back a sob, "I can't find her. Oh fuck, what if she's stuck somewhere or someone took her-" he began to mumble all the horrible possibilities of where his little girl was, and he began to cry softly. Sadie's heart dropped, seeing Lars so scared again, and she wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his back.

"We're gonna find her, and it's gonna be OK," she mumbled, "You'll see."

Unable to respond with much hope, in too much fear, Lars held back another sob, rubbing furiously at his eyes.

Ronaldo felt his stomach tighten, and fidgeted a little, his hands going across the fresh towel he'd used for his hair just then. It still smelled like laundry soap.

Wait.

Ronaldo spoke up, "I think I know where she is. We forgot to check one place," and speed-walked into the hallway, hearing the rhythmic thumping of the clothes dryer still going on at the very end of the hall. He looked in the laundry room, and grinned in triumph.

Ellie was sound asleep in the basket of fresh clothes right by the machine, having tucked herself under a warm towel.

"Found her!", Ronaldo sing-songed, and Lars nearly barreled into him like a bullet train, looking into the room, and collapsed with relief.

"Oh god," he breathed, and tears leaked from his eyes, "God god god..."

Sadie gave a relieved smile as she saw the little girl, and seeing Lars' reaction, and gently rubbed his shoulder, helping him up. Lars was shaking against her, adrenaline still coursing through his body. _He'd been so scared..._

"She must have not heard you over the dryer," Ronaldo shrugged, gently rubbing Lars' head, and watched him wipe his eyes to recollect himself.

"H-How'd you think to check here, man?", he asked, swallowing dryly.

"Well, I thought back to when _we_ were kids, not much older than her," he began, pressing his glasses up on his nose as he spoke like he'd solved a world class mystery, "And I happened to remember how a _certain someone_ here hated thunderstorms and rain."

Lars flushed, "OK, go on..."

"And that certain someone, even at _my_ house, would crawl into the fresh laundry because he thought it was so nice and cozy, and he'd stay there all night."

"Lars, you did that?", Sadie giggled, "That's so _cute_!"

Blushing a bit, he rolled his eyes, "I was like four, gimme a break..."

"And _she_ ," Ronaldo pointed to the dozing toddler, "Is just as little as you were. And considering how much she reminds me of _you_ , I thought it only made sense to check here."

Giving a soft, shaky laugh, Lars muttered, "Th-thanks man," and hugged Ronaldo tightly, which shocked the blogger, but he returned the hug nonetheless. And because he felt it was a good comfort, he slipped in a quick kiss to the cheek. It clearly took Lars by surprise, but he didn't comment on it. For all that he had gone through tonight, that was OK.

Pulling back from the hug, Lars walked into the laundry room, and sat by the basket, patting his daughter's head. It woke her up quickly, and she sat up, looking unamused at being woken up.

"Have a nice nap?", he smiled at her, trying to hide how worried he'd been, kissing her nose, and she swatted at him a little, whining. He laughed, "Sorry, did you want to go back to sleep?"

"Yes," she nodded with utmost seriousness, and flopped back on the laundry, nesting back into her cozy zone.

Even when she whined again, he pulled the top towel off of her and replaced it with a fresh one from the dryer, and she seemed to enjoy that, wrapping herself in it completely, and was out like a light in a matter of seconds. Lars kissed her head again, and kept sat in his spot watching her, his two friends standing nearby. He gave a soft snicker, "She's got the right idea here, stickin' by the dryer. Looks comfy as hell."

Giving a thoughtful grin, he reached for a freshly washed pillow, putting a case on it, and lay on the floor with it, "I'm staying here!", he announced to his friends, and shut his eyes, hearing them both snicker.

Sadie soon climbed on top of him, "I'm staying too!", and wrapped her limbs around him, snuggling into his chest, which made him flush red. He didn't protest to it though, and nuzzled the top of her head, closing his eyes again.

Lars gave a little yelp when he felt himself, and a clinging Sadie get lifted up and set back down in Ronaldo's arms and lap. The eccentric man grinned, "Me three!", and used a stack of laundry as a chair/pillow to recline on, Lars cradled in his arms with Sadie on top of him.

It was honestly really comfortable.

Though he gave a small screech of surprise, Lars didn't protest when he felt himself get a kiss on the forehead. And neither did Sadie. If anything, this was perfect, like their own little family all together. Well almost.

Lars completed the circle by reaching one hand out, dragging the laundry basket closer by, and let his hand rest on top of Ellie.

There. All together.

* * *

The rain had subsided by the next morning, and with all the puddles that had collected on the rooftop, Lars decided that it was then a good time to let Ellie play in the wet weather. Sadie and Ronaldo, both having stayed the night, joined them, and pretty soon had made a game out of seeing if they could race leaves across the puddles by blowing on them, competing to see who could jump over more puddles without landing on them, and even a splashing contest.

Lars admittedly didn't appreciate when Ronaldo stole his boot to fill it with water and create a weapon for the splash fight, but hearing Ellie squeal with laughter was enough to let it slide.

In the middle of helping Ellie 'fly' from puddle to puddle by lifting her in the air by her hands, Lars' cell phone rang, and he excused himself, momentarily to answer, sitting on a nearby patio bench. It was probably just the restaurant, or a client, or his dentist, or the pharmacy...

"Hello?", he answered.

"Hello," another voice answered amicably on the other line, "Miss me, Lawrence?"

He recognized the voice immediately, " _Maura_?"

"Hey, you remember me," the other answered as if she were pleased, "What's new in your world?"

"Oh, uh," he began, feeling incredibly awkward, "Not much..."

"Still waiting tables at Benihana, or you doing something else now?"

"I work as a chef at another place now," he responded blankly.

"McDonalds?", she teased.

"Ha ha," he answered sarcastically, "I work at Shima Mouko now."

"Ooh, big name place," she spoke with a quirk in her voice, "So do you run into celebrities at all, or just a bunch of grubby tourist crowds?"

"Mix of both," he admitted, "Not a big deal after working there for so long, you don't really care who you meet, so long as you get paid."

"Mm," she responded as if she were agreeing.

"...so how's the art modeling scene?"

"I quit. I realized it wasn't worth my time, and if I ever wanted out of the city, I'd have to get a real job. Which I did."

"Oh? Where?", he asked, crossing his ankles.

"Mmmm," she began, as if to provoke anticipation, "Just a certain lil' publishing company. One that's got a book up for the Holdencott Award...guess which one?"

"Mine," he grinned coolly.

"You bet, Picasso. Congrats," she spoke with a familiar warmth.

"Thanks," he mumbled, "What's your job there?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," she smiled, "I'm coming back to Palm City for a bit, if you want to ah...catch up, would you say?", she spoke as if to imply something different, "You've really made a success of yourself..."

Lars, knowing she was hinting at something along the lines of either getting into his wallet or into his pants again, frowned, "Can't. I'm busy looking after Ellie for the next fifteen plus years," he spoke with a cheerful tone to mask the colder edge.

"...oh wow," Maura muttered, "You're still looking after her. How are you not broke?"

"Believe me, I don't know either," he mumbled, "But we're managing."

"I don't know how much longer you'll be able to do that," she mumbled, "You know, you don't want her to _resent_ you right?"

Not even wanting to get into what the fuck Maura meant by that, Lars frowned, "She doesn't. She won't. I'm doing what I know is best for her."

"Well, uh, let's be real here, Lawrence, you don't really have a grasp of what is best for people. Even yourself."

Wanting to keep his temper down, he smiled tightly, "You don't know me very well then, huh, Maura? You just knew me as the artist guy who you thought was 'exciting enough', said you would want to settle down with, and somehow got me caught up in it, and then when you decided you had enough of this place, you up and left. Oh yeah, thanks for that cute little trick with the child support stuff. _Really_ cute. I'm sure I'd _love_ to have coffee with you after that."

The other line was silent for several seconds, before she answered coldly, "So do you still call her by that other name you gave her? Ching-Ling or whatever?"

He curled his nose indignantly at how gross he found her comment, but responded calmly, " _Liang Ju_. I named her Liang Ju."

"But she still likes being called Ellie more, right?", she egged, "I mean, why even keep that _exotic_ name and tone it down to something more...I don't know... _American_?"

"She likes the name Ellie because it's easier for her to pronounce now," he spoke, irritated by her emphasis on the words 'exotic' and 'American', "I call her Liang Ju sometimes, and probably will do it more when she gets older."

"Well, why though?", Maura snorted, "You told me you had some sort of other name other than Lawrence or Lars, right? I don't even remember it, you never went by it."

"My Chinese name is _Lim_ _Ning_ , my mother named me that, but she picked my English name with my father," Lars frowned, "I don't see what's wrong with going by one over the other."

"Well why bother having the Chinese name if you're never going to use it? I mean, you're probably only _half_ Chinese right? The red hair doesn't really scream Asia to me, if I'm going to be blunt."

Lars smiled again, wrist twitching with the urge to find wherever she was sitting and flip her table, "Your relatives aren't even from anywhere outside of Europe, so I don't think you have any ground to tell me about my culture or background, aight? Now if you don't mind, Maura, _Liang Ju_ needs me, so I think I've heard enough from you. Good luck with your desk job, don't call me again unless it's about you finally paying me for almost four years of child support. _Xie xie~!_ ," he chirped into the phone with a fake tone of sweetness as if to flip her off.

"Wait-!", she nearly snapped before he could end the call, "Ellie- I mean...Liang Ju...she has to have a mother in her life, Lawrence! You can't deny that..."

Lars paused, and watched his two lifelong friends play with Ellie, watching the girl hold onto each of their hands, smiling bright enough to clear away the rainclouds overhead.

"I'm not gonna deny that, Maura. But it isn't going to be you."

Hanging up before a response could be made, Lars pocketed his phone, and returned to his, what he considered, newly expanded family, feeling prouder than ever.

* * *

 **Author Notes: I did a bit of searching for Chinese names for Lars and Ellie, and I found ones I thought fit well.**

 **Liang Ju roughly translates out to 'Bright Daisy', and Lim Ning translates to 'Person of Peace from the Woods'. Ellie is a bright character, and Lars' name is so ironic to his wilder nature (and his taming out as an adult) that it sort of fits.**

 **The restaurant name Shima Mouko is a rough translation of 'Fierce Tiger Stripes' in Japanese, a small nod to my previous fanfic 'Tiger Stripes'!**

 **Granted, I am not Chinese or Japanese, so if I royally screwed these up, please let me know!**


	22. The Believer Loves the Artist and Writer

"Peedee, I know you're probably a little peeved about that minibar bill..."

"How many bottles of vodka were in that thing? How many did you _have_?"

"...er...all of them. And the whiskey, and the beers, and the wine."

"So you basically drank yourself silly on everything, and ran a $120 bill," Peedee sighed, "Ok, whatever, whatever, I just am glad you don't have alcohol poisoning from that. So why are you calling now?"

"I...want to cancel my flight ticket."

"Seriously? Like not even postpone?"

"Well, I don't know," he mumbled, "I don't know if I should be coming back to Beach City yet. I just...I think I really like it here," he admitted, "My friends are here, and there's stuff here I've always sort of wanted to see, and do."

"You know this is gonna be a big thing, Ron, if you do end up staying there? You'll have to have all your stuff moved there, new licenses, new everything-"

"I know. I think I can do it," Ronaldo mumbled.

"Well...look, OK, how about a deal? I'll change your ticket to a later date, and you can stay there a little longer. I don't know, maybe another week, another month. Maybe even two months. And if you haven't changed your mind by then, I'll help you move all your stuff there, and cancel your flight officially...OK?"

"Alright," Ronaldo sighed. As overbearing as Peedee could be sometimes, he thought this was actually going to be in his better interest. Because yeah: what if he did change his mind about leaving?

After more talking, with Peedee assuring he knew Ronaldo could make the right decision for himself, the elder brother hung up, and looked out his hotel window, deep in thought.

To be honest, he felt a bigger attachment to Beach City than the actual Palm City. But he felt an even bigger, stronger attachment to his two friends. He cared so strongly for them, he loved them both, and he felt that he was a safer, better person when they were all together.

The night before, in the laundry room, he'd felt like they all had such a strong bond, like a family, that if it were to break, and he went back to Beach City without them, he would feel so helplessly alone.

He thought about them as a group dynamic. It was uneven, maybe even a little clunky, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the least, at least to him it wasn't. Then as individuals.

Lars had been one of his friends for the longest time. Even with how their friendship had fractured, once they had made amends, it became stronger than it had when they were friends. He admired how Lars had been able to strengthen himself, to keep forging ahead during the rough patches in his life, and become a kinder, gentler person. He loved him, and even with Lars being entirely unsure how he felt about the other, he had a feeling that they would be able to work through it, and still maintain a strong affectionate bond. Small little touches like kisses and cuddles and words of affection, those were great things he could share with him.

He absolutely adored Sadie, but not in the same sense as Lars. He didn't really get a strange fluttery feeling in his chest around her, or feel his face get flushed. He felt...more comfortable around her, like when he would be around Peedee. There had been that whole issue with when Florence left, but they had discussed that, and realized it was because of Ronaldo's grief and Sadie's frustration that it was result of a misfired attempt to comfort him, and they realized that those sorts of feelings were not something they shared for each other. But he loved her like she was family, and if she were to suddenly go out of his life, he'd feel incomplete.

He somewhat had a sense those two really liked each other in a sense that was different to how he felt about each of them, but he thought that was OK. This dynamic was so strange, and definitely not something he'd ever expected to be a part of, but...it was OK. In fact, it was pretty comfortable to live with.

Taking a taxi to Lars' apartment, he felt it was something that should be discussed, albeit, tactfully. Maybe he could integrate it with a conversation regarding how he wanted to perhaps stay longer in this city.

When he arrived, he saw a note on Lars' door, _Ronnie, Sadie and I are on the rooftop, Ellie's at the neighbors, come on up at join us if you drop by! -Lars_

Ronaldo fixed his jacket, and headed up to the rooftop, deciding how best to come across with his words about how he felt about the two.

When he opened the door to the roof, he immediately caught sight of them. Neither of them had noticed the door open, and were looking quite fixated on their own activities.

Ronaldo immediately flushed with embarrassment as he realized they were quite...invested in each other. Sadie had Lars pinned to the patio futon they were on, one of her hands in his hair while she kissed him, the other hand having unbuttoned his pants and working away at him rhythmically. Lars' hands were just as much of multi-taskers, one hand roaming along her chest, the other lost up under her skirt, doing God knows what, but whatever it was, she was certainly enjoying it with the noise she was making.

Feeling caught off guard rather than horrified or upset, the other adult was deciding it would be best to return in a short while, and then bring up his conversation, but just before he could sneak away, Sadie had caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and gave a surprised squeak against Lars' mouth, and punched his arm to get him to stop and see.

Both scrambled to get up and get themselves back together, looking embarrassed and nervous, "G-God, Ronaldo! We didn't see you there, and-"

"No, no!", Ronaldo smiled, face bright red as he interrupted Lars, "I can work with this! This is actually a _great_ segway into what I wanted to talk to you guys about!"

"Er...really?", Sadie asked, cheeks flushed as she fixed her skirt, sitting upright against Lars, who was still a little frazzled, and trying to kill off his arousal from their activities.

"Yeah!", Ronaldo smiled, fixing his glasses, "So uh...I guess I really like both of you guys."

Both looked at each other, then Ronaldo, "Really?"

"Yeah...but, uh...here's the thing...I like you both a lot...no no, I _love_ you both a lot, but it's really different for each of you."

"...go on...", Lars mumbled, crossing his arms as if he were really interested in this conversation.

"Well, uh...I think it's very clear you love each other, in er...this way," he gestured to how flustered they both had made each other. Lars sheepishly crossed his legs as if to hide himself.

"Yeah...uh...do you feel _that_ way about either of us?", Sadie asked, face pink.

"Well...no. I feel differently," he tried to explain, "Like...I love us as being altogether, as well, together," he shrugged, "But then, for each of you, it's different...can I try to explain it without much judgement or you thinking I'm too weird?"

"Ronaldo, it's been established you're weird, it's fine," Lars snickered, "Go on, give me the spiel."

"So um...for you Lars...I like you...well...a lot. Maybe not as um...physical as you and Sadie, but I definitely feel a romantic connection."

"Aw, gee," Lars flushed, not really able to say much else, except smile very awkwardly. He didn't expect it to be put so bluntly, but he wasn't uncomfortable with the revelation.

"Like, I think you're really cute, and adorable, and I kind of want to cuddle you and tell you I love you and things like that, but uh-"

"You don't want to bang me," Lars guessed bluntly.

"...Yeah," Ronaldo blushed.

"...that's...actually pretty cool with me," Lars flushed, "I mean, yeah. I...don't think I want to get in your pants either...but I still think you're pretty damn cute. And cuddly as hell. I have no idea if you're on a fluff and marshmallow diet, but I did _not_ want to get off your lap last night, you were cozy."

Ronaldo laughed softly, "Well I'm glad then. So...you wouldn't be opposed to me giving you a kiss on the cheek or calling you something cute?"

"In public, I'd say to hold off," Lars flushed, "I'm not a big PDA fan, Sadie knows that and uh-...wait...Sadie are you...are you ok with this? It doesn't change how I feel about you, y'know, but I don't want you to feel weirded out by this..."

Sadie had been quiet, as if she were thinking of this whole revelation. She looked up, "Well...surprisingly...I don't mind it either...", she shrugged sheepishly, "I...actually kind of like it."

Lars gently squeeze cuddled her, relieved this didn't bother her, and relieved with himself that this didn't bother him.

"But uh...I guess to ask it now, how do you feel about me?", Sadie looked at Ronaldo.

"...You feel like family to me," he shrugged, "The type of family that I want to have as close as I can, and that if I were to lose you, I would feel incomplete."

Sadie blushed, "So uh...you don't have the hots for me like you do Lars, right?"

"Er...right..."

"Oh thank god," she breathed.

Lars and Ronaldo both laughed awkwardly, "What?", Ronaldo snickered.

"I was scared you were going to say you wanted me as your wife, because then things would be really awkward! " she laughed, "Ron, you're like my brother!"

"That's the best way to put it," Ronaldo laughed again, feeling incredibly relieved.

"So uh what about that whole thing where you guys ate each other's faces?", Lars piped up.

"Oh we got past that," Sadie laughed, "That was uh...that was a mess."

"My fiancee left me, I was desperate," Ronaldo groaned, holding back an awkward giggle, "And I'm pretty sure Sadie was not 100% sober."

"Nope," she chirped, and all three began to laugh, any remaining tension starting to peter away.

"So uh...we're all cool with this I take it?", Lars looked around, "Sadie and I have the kisses, sex and cuddles; Ron and I have that minus the sex; and you guys are basically 'I love you, no romo'?"

" _I love you no romo!_ ", Sadie and Ronaldo cheered, which made Lars cackle.

"OK OK, this can work," he grinned.

"Wait, what if we all move in together in the next few years?", Ronaldo then frowned, "You have Ellie. Is she going to understand it?"

"She marries her teddy bears in groups of five," Lars snickered, "And married her toy cars to her dolls. She'll handle this just fine."

"Great," Ronaldo sighed in relief, and crashed between the two, cuddling them both, "This...is a very different dynamic we have, and I will be the first to admit, perhaps not the most orthodox...but I am quite comfortable."

"Same," Sadie smiled, flopping against him.

"Mhm~", Lars agreed, head resting on Ronaldo's gut.

"Uh, Lars," Ronaldo began, "Your pants are still uh-"

"Oops."

"Do you two want me to uh...leave and let you guys get back to er...whatever it was?"

"...Nah. We'll do that later," Lars mumbled.

"Agreed," Sadie smiled, reaching a hand over to Lars, and gently squeezed it.

This was great.


	23. The Writer, Believer,& Artist are Family

"I didn't think it was possible to get a place smaller than Lars'", Sadie laughed as she and Ronaldo shared the couch she'd snagged from the Goodwill, "Are you sure you'll be ok sleeping on this thing for who-know-how-many months?"

"I'll be fine. My body fat works as a pillowtop," he teased, squishing onto the couch so he was laying down. Sadie stood up to give him room, then sat back down on his legs, "Yeesh," she mumbled, "I know this was the best for our budgets, but I really hope Lars finds a bigger place soon. I don't want to have to share a bathroom with you for potentially the rest of my twenties. No offense."

"None taken, " Ronaldo mumbled. It had been two months since he first arrived to Palm City, and for the last week, he and Sadie had been inhabiting this impossibly tiny apartment together, "I still haven't officially announced to the world I'm staying here yet."

"Why drag your feet?", Sadie asked softly.

"Eh, I know Peedee's gonna miss me," Ronaldo shrugged, "And I gotta figure out how to segway from Keep Beach City Weird to...well...whatever this will be," he shrugged.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out soon," she smiled, and looked at her phone, "Oh gosh. I forgot next week was Ellie's birthday. Since we're basically family now, we should probably get her something. I don't know what she would like. What are you getting her?"

"A trebuchet."

"A _what_?"

"A French counterweight catapult that-"

"OK, but _why_?", she looked at him,

"Why not," he shrugged, "It seems like it would be the perfect present. She can officially unleash hell."

"Ronaldo, I don't think Lars will let her even get near that sort of thing."

"Hey, if he let her listen to screamo music while she was in the womb, then he would be perfectly accepting of his daughter handling a trebuchet."

"...I'm not even going to question your logic there," Sadie snickered, shaking her head.

"Good, good," he smiled, "So...how's the book?"

"It's three quarters of the way there."

"You never let me read it?"

"I haven't let anyone read it."

"You won't tell us what it's about, even!"

"...well...it's kind of embarrassing," she admitted, "I wrote the main character based off of Lars."

"Aww, you did?", Ronaldo grinned, "Why is that embarrassing? It's not a romance novel, right?"

"No, no," she laughed, "It's just...I put a lot of love into it."

"Well, we both love Lars, so of course you would."

"Gosh," she blushed, snickering, "I just...I don't want him to feel embarrassed by how I wrote him."

"Hey, unless you named him Lars, nobody has to know it's based off of him," Ronaldo assured, and pat her arm.

"True," she admitted, "I think I want to surprise him with the first 'official copy' once it gets published."

"I'm sure he'd like that," he smiled, and stared at the ceiling, "...If that ceiling collapses on us, and we die, I will not be surprised."

Sadie gave a small giggle, "Yeah."

"...So back to the trebuchet-"

"How about no, let's not."

* * *

"So, Ellie, I know the idea is that you would be able to count to four today, but I think you're smart enough to get up to ten. Wanna give it a shot?", Lars smiled, leaning on his elbow while he sat at the table, his daughter poking tiny pretzel sticks in her cupcakes that she just made.

"OK," she nodded, looking more invested in making her cupcakes look like sea mines than anything else.

"Start counting whenever you want," Lars shrugged.

"One, two, three-" she began to rattle off quickly.

"I meant in Dad's language. Like we practiced, remember?", he laughed.

"Oh," she nodded, still not looking at him, and continued working away on the birthday treats. After a few seconds of silence, she began to speak, " _Yī , èr, sān, sì, wǔ , lìu, qī, bā, jiǔ, shí_ ."

"Hey, you did it!", Lars grinned, leaning over and kissing her cheek, "You did that perfectly, kiddo!"

She looked up, and gave a small, "Yay," and was back to sticking pretzels in the cupcakes.

He smiled at how nonchalant her cheerfulness was, and kissed her head again, "Happy birthday, Liang Ju," and wiped a bit of icing off of her nose with a dish towel, which made her nose twitch a little.

Later that afternoon, Ronaldo and Sadie arrived, Sadie rolling her eyes as Ronaldo proudly placed a gift bag in Lars' hands, "Sadie and I both agreed this was a good present for Ellie-"

"I agreed to nothing," Sadie piped up, and handed over her own present that she'd wrapped.

Ellie walked in, and handed them both a pretzel stick impaled cupcake, "Sea mines," she spoke innocently, and took the presents with a thank you, and began to rip into them.

Lars was asking Ronaldo 'what the hell is that?' when Ellie peered over the box for a wooden scale model trebuchet. "I felt it would be a good option for her, so she has recreational activities."

"...Well so long as she doesn't terrorize people with it," Lars mumbled, "Because holy crap, I _wanted one of those when I was a kid_."

Ronaldo grinned smugly to Sadie, who snickered, and watched as Ellie opened her present of books. While the little girl looked through them, she smiled to Lars, "You said she likes to read, right?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "So what do we say, Ellie?"

"Thank you for the books and this thing," she smiled, pointing to the box with the trebuchet. Without much warning, she carried them all into the hallway to her room, and sat in the middle of the floor to read.

Lars watched her, and then went back out into his living room, "She's gonna be in there a while," he laughed softly, "Thanks for comin' by."

"Of course!", Sadie smiled, and kissed his cheek. Ronaldo kissed his other cheek, and Lars blushed, walking back into the kitchen, "I kind of regret letting her stick all those pretzels in the cupcakes. I actually hate pretzels," he teased.

"Aww, the sacrifices you make," Sadie teased gently, and looked on the kitchen counter, seeing a large glass tank, "Is that-"

"An aquarium? Yeah. I gave in," he smiled, "I told her I'd have to accept that 'Harry' was never coming back, and he'd want me to move on."

"I thought an aquarium this size isn't allowed in here," Ronaldo mumbled.

"I know...that's uh...well," Lars smiled, "I got some big news."

"Yeah?" Sadie smiled, sitting on the counter.

"You know that book that was up for that award?"

"Yeah?", she grinned.

"Uh...it won," he smiled, "They called me this morning."

Ronaldo yanked Lars into a hug, lifting him up with a cheer, "That's my Lars! I knew it!"

"Congratulations!", Sadie beamed, kissing Lars' cheek again, "I'm so happy for you!"

"Y-yeah," Lars stuttered awkwardly, "I'm really happy too. And I'm uh...going to get a lot of money because of it."

"And?", Sadie and Ronaldo both glanced at him.

"I've been looking at places..."

"Go on..."

"I put one on hold in West Palm," he smiled," and pulled out his laptop, showing them pictures of a small apartment style building in the city, "It's uh...a whole building."

"You're kidding," Ronaldo looked at him, jaw slack.

"It's got the studio apartment on the third story, we'd be living there, and uh, the other two stories would be the business," he grinned.

"Oh my god, Lars," Sadie whispered, "You're really getting that?"

"Hey, I got the money to burn on it now," he grinned, "And it'll take a while for us to actually get a business up and running in it, but it's more than livable. If you guys wanna, we could go check it out tomorrow...and if we like it, well... _it's ours_."

Sadie cheered and leaped into his arms, hugging him tight, "Yes please! I wanna see it so bad!", she squeaked against his chest. Lars laughed as he hugged back tightly, and both got lifted off the floor by Ronaldo.

"It will be our restaurant bookstore!", the curly haired man cheered.

"I thought you guys said those were coffeeshops!", Lars snickered.

"Babe, we're not going to try and bring you down now," Sadie laughed, "If it's a restaurant bookstore you want, then it's a restaurant bookstore we'll open."

"I'll make sure it's ghost proof!", Ronaldo grinned, "I've been reading up on Palm City lore, and there's a huge history of paranormal activity in this part of the country. Native American spirits and the like! I'll make sure our dwelling is safe from dangerous spirits, and welcoming to benevolent ones!"

"Great, great!", Lars grinned. With all the spooky encounters with the paranormal he'd had in his life, he was not going to stop Ronaldo from keeping them safe!

"Wait wait, Lars, let me borrow your laptop," Ronaldo smiled, and logged into his blog. After fifteen minutes of furious typing, he returned it, and smiled, showing them the screen, "What do you guys think?"

The blog now read, ' _Keep Beach City Weird, But Palm City Weirder!_ '

"It's official then!", Lars cackled, and slapped his back, "You can call yourself a local now!"

"A milestone!", Ronaldo spoke, stars in his eyes, and hugged the other two tightly, lifting them up and spinning them around the kitchen until they crashed into a chair, and fell over.

Later that night, on the rooftop, while Sadie and Lars cuddled under the stars, looking over the near finished draft of her book, Ronaldo excused himself to take a call.

Peedee chirped over the phone, "Congratulations, Ronaldo. Saw your blog... Guess you're going to stay put there?"

"You bet I am," he expressed exuberantly, the same spark from his teenage years flaring up again, "And you better come visit me, understood?"

"Well...I will. As soon as I get through with Europe...and uh...Asia...and Africa...and a few islands-"

"Right right...when do you leave?"

"Next week," Peedee smiled wistfully, "Shop's last day is this weekend."

"Wow..." Ronaldo mumbled, "Give it a good sendoff for me, alright?"

"Will do," he smiled, "Love you Big Tater."

"Love you too, Tiny Tot," he smiled back.

Later that night, while scrolling his social media on his phone, Ronaldo saw wedding pictures of Florence and her new husband. She was happy. Her husband looked happy. Ronaldo was happy.

He congratulated her, and put away his phone.

For once, he didn't feel sad about her at all.


	24. An Epilogue for Grownups

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, it had already been five years.

And everything was still relatively good. Maybe not sane, but good.

Lars had concluded this mentally while he dragged in the new furniture that had been shipped for restaurant decor. After a whole morning of getting the kitchen range installed, and testing everything, he was physically tired, but his brain was screaming there was more to be done. Much more to be done.

Until business was starting to grow, and he had to employ more cooks, he'd be doing most of the cooking himself, Ronaldo lending a hand when needed. Sadie would be in charge of the bookstore on the second floor, and as soon as move shelves came in, they'd be able to sell books on the first floor too.

"Lars, wait wait wait, what are you doing," Sadie mumbled as she saw him start hauling in some of his finished canvases that were the size of fridges.

"Testiiiing,' he singsonged as he held the paintings up to the wall, "Yeah these'll fit," he mumbled to himself, and left them sitting against the wall.

"We have to put nails in that wall before we can hang anything you know," she glanced at him.

"I know," he rolled his shoulders, "Just making sure they're not too big to fit on there. Think these look ok?"

"Lars, I'm biased, of course I'm going to like your art on the wall," she laughed softly, and looked around, then marched over to one, "Just not...this one. It's too creepy with the koala on it."

"Hey! I for one think it's lovely!", Ronaldo called from behind the cooking station where he was unpacking the tools and putting them in proper drawers, "Anything that hangs from a tree is majestic and remarkable!"

"Thanks babe," Lars snickered to the other.

"Dad!" Ellie called from the second floor, "Can I put Spike's tank on the first floor? He can be the restaurant pet!"

"The urchin's staying inside your room until everything else gets taken care of, that's the rule!", Lars called to her, "Did you dust off all the shelves?"

"Yeah, they're all dusted!", she called back, and sneezed.

"Thanks!", he called back to her again, glad she was helping them set up their family's business without much complaint. After almost five years of chiefly staying in the top floor of their building, it was so exciting to finally get their business off the ground. In less than a month, they'd be up and running.

Ronaldo and Sadie were unpacking the rest of the artwork Lars was planning to put up for sale and viewing, and Ronaldo teased, "Lars, we should totally sell those drawings you did last summer. The ones of Sadie."

"Oh jeez, not those!", Sadie laughed, "I wasn't wearing any clothes in those!"

"We'll tally the number of people who recognize her in them, and when we get to fifty, we can take them down!", Ronaldo grinned.

Lars laughed, "We'll put the erotic paintings up when we have a full bar, I promise."

"Lars, you wouldn't!", Sadie gasped, pouting cutely at him.

"Hey, if I have to I'll paint your hair a different color in them," he teased gently, and untangled all the wires to the telephones he was plugging in. He'd figure out if they worked later, and opted to watch as Ronaldo and Sadie continued to playfully argue about the nude paintings while they grabbed cans of paint to recolor the vintage tables they'd bought earlier. "Don't worry about lathering it on thick guys, I've got more paint cans upstairs."

"Got it," Sadie piped up, and bopped Ronaldo on the head with her brush before she dipped it in the paint. Lars plopped beside them both, and grabbed his own brush.

"This whole place is gonna smell like paint for a week, I should have bought gas masks," he muttered.

"Nah, we'll live," Sadie smiled, and got to work making big stripes across the table she was working on, trying to be as efficient as she could. Both she and Ronaldo knew that Lars was probably going to be the one who got the most painting done in the shortest amount of time, being the speedy artist he was, but they were all making efficient progress.

"Hey Ronnie, after this, we should get out all your equipment for your lectures, and the podium, and make sure the mics work, eh?", Lars looked over to the other man.

"Can we get the stage set up first though? I want to see if we can thread all those stupid mic cords and stuff under the stage so I'm not tripping over everything," he sighed, "Remember when I gave that presentation last year at the library and I tripped on the mic cord?"

"Oh yeah," Lars mumbled, then smirked, "That was fuckin' hilarious."

"I almost broke a tooth!", Ronaldo whined, about to swat him.

"I know I know," Lars snickered softly, "We'll see if we can do somethin' about that, don't worry."

"Good," he sighed.

The telephone rang, and Lars laughed, "Oh god, already we have customers," and went over to the other side of the room to grap the phone and picked it up, "Hello?"

"Oh great, the phone works now!", Steven chirped happily.

"Steven, I gave you the number this morning, telling you it wasn't gonna be in service for a while, and you still call me within the same day?", Lars snickered.

"Heyyy, it's working though isn't it? No harm done then!", he laughed, "I was just calling to check on Steven Jr.!"

The cook gave a snort, "For the last time we ain't naming the baby 'Steven Jr.'!"

"How about Steph-AN!", he grinned.

"Oh good lord, man," Lars laughed, glancing at Sadie from the corner of his eye while she continued painting away, "It's way too early to even tell if it's going to be a boy or girl."

"Stephanie. Stephano. Stevonnie-", Steven was continuing to list off potential names in his honor.

"Tell you what, if the baby comes out with a rock stuck on it, we'll call it Steven, but otherwise, no way," Lars snickered.

"How is Sadie doing anyway?"

"She's fine," Lars shrugged, "She says Ronnie and I need to chill, that I'm apparently being 'overprotective'," he huffed, making air quotes, "Not my fault that it was less than 60 degrees yesterday so I gave her two pairs of socks so then there wasn't any risk of her feeling sick again."

"Oh my _god_ Lars, you're really freaking out about it, huh?"

"I am NOT freaking out, I just don't want her to overexert herself and- _oh geez, is she climbing on top the table to get more paint on it, oh god why is she doing that-_ "

Steven laughed over the phone, "Lars, calm down, you guys are gonna be fine. Breathe."

"Ugh, fine," Lars groaned, then smiled, "Hey. I better see your ass at the grand opening in a couple of weeks."

"You will, you will," Steven laughed, "Connie and I both. I invited the gems, but I don't think this is their sort of thing-"

A voice broke into the call on Steven's end, "Oh Steven are you talking to your friends again? Hello!", Pearl chirped over the phone.

"Hey donut boy!" Amethyst butted in, "Be a good Greg, you hear!"

"..." an approving noise was made in Garnet's place, and Steven laughed awkwardly, "Ok, I guess I better get going! Bye Lars!", and hung up.

Lars gave a soft chuckle at how the Gems had burst into the call, and went back over to Sadie and Ronaldo who were still working away on the tables. Sadie, wanting more paint, hopped off the table she had climbed onto, and grabbed the one Lars had just put down, "Who was on the phone?"

"Steven. Wishing us luck," he grinned.

"Aww," she laughed, "That's nice of him," and pulled him by the arm, "Here. You can finish this table for me, I'm going to go paint the top of that shelf over there-"

"How about I do it?", he cut in quickly, but wanting to sound chill, he cracked an amused grin, "I'm tall."

"I can climb the shelf fine," she shrugged, and grabbed a can of paint, hauling it over her back. Lars held his breath, and he sighed, "Sades, c'mon, it'll be easier if I do it!"

"Lars, relax a little," she smiled and scaled the shelf. She rolled her eyes when he stood right behind her, as if he were anticipating her to fall. Sighing, she climbed down, "Ok, worry-wart, you can do it."

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I'm just trying to-"

"I know," she sighed, patting his arms, "But it's gonna be a long several months, and you're already starting to stress yourself. Relax. I can take care of myself. Now are you going to fuss over me, or actually get this place into business?"

"The latter," he sighed, kissing her gently.

After a few more hours of painting, the furniture was left to dry, and they had moved onto preparing all the bookshelves. Sadie was grabbing shipments of books they had ordered to place on the shelves, and Ronaldo stopped her before she could do anything.

"We have to christen these shelves! The honorary first book should be the one you published," he grinned, handing her a copy of her story.

"Drumroll please," she snickered and Lars banged his fingers on a table while she dramatically placed the book on a shelf. After some silly fanfare, everyone worked to fill the shelves with books in an organized manner. Lars even made specific space for his award winning picture book, so people would know it was his. It was tedious, but everything was starting to look pretty decent by the time the sky was dark and they were all dead exhausted.

They lounged on their own rooftop that evening, comparing calluses on their hands, and paint speckles on their faces. Lars had popped open what looked like a bottle of champagne, and poured three glasses in celebration of getting so much progress on the shop done, offering Sadie one.

"Lars are you _nuts_?", she nearly yelped, "I just got my new damn sobriety chip in the mail, and not to mention the whole prenatal thing-"

"Relax," he echoed her telling him to calm down earlier, "It's sparkling cider. I hate champagne anyway."

She huffed, and punched his arm, but then kissed his cheek, "Jerk."

"I know."

Ellie began to express slight annoyance that her hair was starting to show curls, "Now it's going to look weird when I brush it..."

"Hey, it's not so bad," Ronaldo shrugged, "If anything, it looks like your dad's hair when he was a kid."

That didn't make Ellie feel better at all, in fact she looked dismayed, "I don't wanna look like my _dad_!"

"Ouch," Lars laughed, and pat her head, "Hey, it'll turn out nice, I promise."

"It better!", she whined, laying flat on the ground, face flat. She may have been Lars' daughter, but Ronaldo's weirdness had rubbed off on her most definitely.

After laughing at the girl, the adults were content to remain on the roof together, Lars on Ronaldo's lap, Sadie in Lars' arms which rested around her waist, and Ellie flopping an arm over her father's foot, connecting the circle.

The three who were not in childlike despair on the ground; The Writer, The Artist, and The Believer; had their eyes set on the stars above, the sky reminding them so much of the one they stood under in a beach-side town so many years ago, once upon a time.

It was good then. It was still good now.

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who followed this story! I'm happy to announce I will soon be publishing a sequel story, it's only one chapter, but it picks up a short time after where this story leaves off, and the characters return to Beach City one more time.**

 **Thank you again!**


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